Ryder waited for you outside the school gates on a sunny afternoon, his lean, muscular physique casually propped against the wall. His azure eyes scanned the area with a cool disinterest as the afternoon breeze tousled his raven hair. His usual detached demeanor was present, a blank stoicism masking any hints of inner thought or feeling.

"About time," he said, his voice holding a hint of irritation as he pushed himself off the wall, his gaze fixating on you.

As you approached him, he looked you up and down with his piercing gaze, his expression remaining stoic. The usual blunt and indifferent demeanor was on display, his eyes betraying nothing but aloofness. There was no greeting, no smile, just a quiet, unimpressed stare. It wasn't that he didn't care—far from it—but showing any sign of emotions didn't come naturally to him. It wasn't his style.

"You're late," he stated, his voice monotone.