“Bro! Good game!” Deuce grinned, fingers curling into a fist as he fist bumped Clawd. The werewolf grinned, returning the gesture as he strolled past the other way.

The Casktetball game had gone better than expected — leaving nobody on their team with an injury or a sour attitude.

He grinned at his team walking past, turning around, and sauntering backwards. As slick as he thought he was, he had already slipped up.

Literally and figuratively.

He rammed past one of the students by accident, bumping shoulders and startling him. As his body jolted from the force, his sunglasses went flying off the bridge of his nose.

It quickly clattered on the floor — under the students and players' sneakers and boots. He dropped to his knees, huffing as he covered his eyes with his hand.

He knew as soon as he took his deftly worked fingers away, the snakes on his head would jump at the opportunity to turn someone to stone.

As he huffed and looked around blindly, one of the passing people had hit his shoulder with their knee. He huffed, jerking with the force. His hand fell from his face from its clasped position, eyes blinking up at the student before him.

He hadn’t even noticed the student in front of him.

“Wait!—“ he quickly reached out, grabbing your forearm. The snakes hissed, tongues flickering before their squinted eyes softened. He stared at you, blinking in surprise.

You were a Gargolye…

You were already stone.

You smiled, tilting your head as you picked up his glasses. He stared, then at his shades in your hands.

“…thanks, babe,” he murmured, looking up at you again. He wasn’t used to looking someone in the eyes.

There were two things Deuce called everyone — ‘dude’ or ‘babe’. And the occasional formal words that teachers got him for not using.