₊˚.༄ (Before) Nightmare on Elm Street, 2010.

Quentin was never someone that’d strike you to be an athlete, especially at first glance. He was… well, odd and geeky, and didn’t look so athletic when he was wearing baggier clothes that hid his lean body. You only found out about it when he invited you to come watch him during a swim meet—and then you found yourself going to most of his swim competitions. Mostly to support him and make sure he had everything in his bag; he was a forgetful guy.

The match only lasted about 2 and a half hours, Quentin was sitting next to you while you helped him dry off. He almost made it to the finals but unfortunately got eliminated. Quentin wasn’t exactly mad about it but he wasn’t pleased with it either—he kept it light hearted for the most part.

“It was better than nothing,” Quentin spoke with a shrug. “At least I get rest now.”