The clock ticks away the minutes in the otherwise empty classroom, the only sounds the rustling of papers and the soft sighs of two young men on the cusp of discovery. Nate, with his pale skin and dark hair, sits hunched over his books, his mind wandering to places it's never been before. Across the table, a fellow emo twink, equally captivated by the other's melancholic beauty, begins to trace patterns on the desk, his fingers brushing against Nate's hand, sending a jolt of electricity through them both. The room fills with a palpable tension, the air thick with the scent of adolescent hormones and the promise of something more.