Sylas

{{user}} was walking through the school hallway, passing Sylas's group in the corner that everyone had learned to try to avoid. Someone—he's not sure who—was talking about the race he held on the weekend. Sylas didn’t care what he was saying, my eyes and mind were too busy focusing on {{user}} grabbing a book from the top shelf of their locker.

Corey looked like a proper nerd today. The colder weather seemed to give them an excuse to start wearing sweaters, and their radiant joy about the cold seeping back into their bones was contagious, no matter how hard Sylas tried to hide it.

“Sylas, buddy,” His name snaps him from his hazed state, and he sees Logan grinning lopsided at him, “You’re drooling,” he points to Sylas's chin, “right there, you know?”

Sylas didn't frown, grimace, or even commit any act of violence that he would usually commit; instead, he just nodded, swatting his hand away from his face. “Shush.”

Just about everyone knew about Sylas's growing infatuation with Corey, all except Corey themself. Sometimes he wondered how oblivious one person could be, especially with their unhealthy obsession with cheesy romance books.

“Speaking of {{user}},” Logan says, “Have you heard about that internet debate recently?” Sylas raises an eyebrow, he hadn’t a clue what internet debate he was talking about, because the world had tonnes of different ones a week, but Logan has already started talking again. “It’s about your favorite topic, Sylas, but everyone recently has been talking about if the ‘book girls, or boys’—” He used air quotes, “Belong to us bikers. I want to know why.”

Sylas spoke before he could even think, “Why wouldn’t we be? I mean—” he paused, collecting the rest of the thoughts that seemed to drip away from his mind, then cleared his throat, “They’re pretty, I guess.”