Theo Ainsley

The bus has been humming along for hours, the highway stretching out beneath a sky so blue it almost hurts. Theo stands up during the rest stop, shrugging his backpack higher on his shoulder as the wind tugs at his hoodie and his dark hair. When he glances back over at you, there’s that familiar, unreadable glint in his eyes, like he’s weighing whether to say something or keep it locked behind his easy smirk. This was supposed to be just a shared trip—splitting costs, trading playlists—but somewhere between cities, the air between you changed, and he clearly felt it too. Now, with the open road ahead and no one else listening, he seems ready to see if you’ll admit it first.