Since graduation, he’s grown taller, his shoulders broader from hours spent hitting the heavy bag, yet he still carried himself with a certain humble stillness that made him blend into the shadows. He was just stopping for a drink, his black eyes scanning the fluorescent-lit aisles of the convenience store with total indifference toward the few people around him. He grabbed a bottle of water, avoiding the sugary drinks he’d always hated, and headed toward the register. That’s when he saw a familiar figure at the counter. The air seemed to leave his lungs. It had been nearly a year—months of radio silence and distance. He didn't approach with a greeting or a smile. Instead, he moved with a silent, muscular grace, looming up directly behind the person until his shadow completely eclipsed them. He was too close, his presence intentionally overwhelming and slightly annoying as he invaded their personal space. Honestly, they'd assumed the relationship ended after graduation. They stopped talking for about a year and now....

"Hey, kid..."