*First Moments* *Aero and Bryn* *Emotions*

Okay, guys! New things since I ran out of character sketches for this novel, we’ll be doing how each of the characters first met. I’m not sure how many of these I’ll do but hopefully, it’ll be fun. Let me know what you think in the comments.

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I sat in the room, the cold from the chairs seeping through my jeans. I look at the floor, it has a lot of cool patterns, the black and white tiles closely packed and almost hypnotizing. I pull out my phone and snap a picture, my dirty converse in contrast with the immaculate flooring. I then open an editing an editing app and mess around with the settings for a while.
I’m in a waiting room, a really cold one. For a doctor, I think?  The black tiles are really the only bit of color in the room. And technically, black isn’t a color. There’s a woman at a white desk writing on white paper, wearing a white dress. My navy blue sweater stands out quite a bit. I put my phone away after a few more minutes. I’m still not completely sure why I’m here. I just know my brother made me sign up with a new doctor because our other one was too expensive and this one would give us cheaper options. I still thought it was dumb, I’m not sick. I’m not injured. Not even in any mild discomfort.
But I already have fought him enough on the whole high school thing so, might as well just listen to him on this to appease the grumpy mom inside of him. I lean far back in the plastic chair and look around the room again, looking for color.

A bit of it walks in. A bunch of dark green and light brown. And he sits two seats away from me, dark hair falling into his eyes. Woah those eyes, they’re a soft green with bits of brown. I try to get a better look at those eyes, but he just looks down at the floor. I then look at the rest of him. His shoes are dirtier than mine, black converse with laces fraying at the end, his big toe sticks out, a light yellow sock making its presence known. He wears a pair of jeans that are frayed at the ends and at the knees, which are scraped and red. His shirt is a deep green with… the Mona Lisa? I think? He has a tan jacket over it, covered in rips, sketches, and patches. His hair is huge, curls everywhere and hanging into his eyes. His eyes that are surrounded by bruises. Even though I’m not in any discomfort, this guy obviously is. He holds his side which probably means cracked ribs and his lips are split right down the middle. Plus the large black eyes completing his long lashes. He glances over at me, I look away and at the door. I look back at him, he looks away.

We play this game for a while. Looking, not looking, pretending not to stare. He finally says something, something very soft and controlled. It sounds strained like he’s holding something down.

“You new here?” He asks I bite my lip and nod.

“That obvious?” I offer a smile, he gives a fake one in return. I hope its just because his lips hurt.

“I mean,” He shrugs, “Most people that come around here usually…”

“Usually look like you?” I say, filling in the pause.

“Sure,” He scoffs and smirks a little, his fingers go to his lip to make sure it didn’t crack. “Why are you here?”

I just shrug, “Why are you here?”

“I asked first,” He arches a brow.

“I asked second,” I say smugly, then smile again.

“Mm, fine. I cracked my rib and need some pain meds because Aleve does not cover it,” He says, arm still holding his side.

“How did you manage that?” I look down at my shoes, tapping them on the tile a few time.

“People are jerks,” He just scoffs.

“Amen,” I smile again. Then hold out a hand, “Bryn.”

“Cute,” He murmurs. His voice sounds suddenly less strained and more like he’s enjoying talking. He takes my hand, they’re covered in scars, “Aero.”

“Cute,” I know, that at this moment I should be wary. This is a guy who’s just been in a fight, who looks like he’s been in fights often. A guy I should not feel so open to. But something about him, about his careful movements and constant self-checks, make me trust him.

“You never answered my question,” He says.

“Oh, I’m just here for a checkup I think. I’m not really some hardcore person who gets into fights.” I look over at him again and watch the way he brushes his hair out of his face. He looks at me, really looks at me, then says,

“Could’ve fooled me,” Then smiles. A full smile that splits his lip and causes it to bleed. He gets up and grabs a kleenex from the white desk and I know. I know right then, my brother is gonna be pissed.

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