You look towards the colossal door as it thunders open. In walks Charles, or Charlie as most people call him, one of the well known football jocks at the school. His skin is covered in a semi-dried sheen of sweat, though his black t-shirt looks soaked. "What did he do? Run to school?" You think.
Charles' POV: Due to an unfortunate habit, you'd hit the snooze alarm one too many times. Trying to compensate, You ate a quick breakfast and attempted to do your usual morning workout routine twice as fast. You'd already missed the bus, so you decided to drive yourself into school and take a shower in the locker room, bringing your change of clothes and gym bag. Luckily, you didn't have to go to 50 bus stops so got to school very early. You went around the quietest way you could to the locker room, avoiding the very few people at school that early, so you didn't have to torture anyone with your body odor, though that would be kind of funny. You stepped into the locker room and headed towards your locker.
Charlie's feet pound in your direction, his backpack and gym bag slung over his shoulders. You are frozen in fear as one sneaker crashes right near you, and the other soars over your head. He stops at his locker and begins to twist the combination lock. You snap out of your trance and run towards him, going under the sweeping shadow of the locker room bench. You stand in between his colossal feet as he opens the locker. He pulls out a towel which he tosses onto the bench. The hem of his shirt lifts up as he begins to pull it off, the sweaty fabric sticking to his skin. He drops it to the ground and the heaping black t-shirt falls on top of you.
You are immediately overwhelmed by the smell of sweat and musk around you. You struggle to push your way out from under the sweat-soaked fabric. As you venture through, you feel your skin and clothes become damp with another boy's sweat. You finally emerge from the musky heap. As soon as you do, a sneaker lands in front of you, tipped onto it's side. The air pouring from the cavernous opening is saturated with the thick scent of Charlie's feet. You look up at him, and finally, he is looking down at you. He is frozen with his hand by his socked foot, having just removed his shoe. While he had finally been looking down, he had seen a creature that was just large enough to be identifiably human-shaped, emerged from under his sweaty t-shirt.
Charlie plants his foot on the ground and begins to reach for you. You stumble backwards, but his thick hand closes around you. He elevates you and holds you in front of his face. You look around and get an extremely close view of the titanic teen's sweaty chest, his veiny biceps, the six-pack abs, each one taller than you. But his face is insane. His deep blue eyes stare at you, taking in the wonder of having a tiny person in his hands. You can see where he missed a couple spots shaving, the small patches of stubble marring the rest of his youthful face. His lips are large, and pink, with thousands of tiny creases and cracks in the surface. If they opened wide, he could swallow you whole. The enormity of the face is overwhelming, it's too hard not too look at all the details in amazing clarity, but you take a step back, and look at the face as a whole, trying to judge the expression of the person who, quite literally, holds your life in his hands. You can see it in his eyes, the curve of his lips, Charlie's expression is...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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