The locker room is mostly empty, the echo of distant showers and clattering doors fading out as people head home. Oscar leans back against the metal lockers in his white tank and joggers, gym bag slung over one shoulder, watching you as you pack up. There’s sweat still drying along his collarbone, but his eyes are clearer than they were last night when everything between you got… complicated. He shifts, blocking your way just enough to make it obvious this isn’t about another training plan. "We’re not just pretending nothing happened, right?" he asks, voice low over the hum of the fluorescent lights.
Oscar drags his palm over the back of his neck, eyes locked on yours. "So… are you gonna look at me like that and then act like last night was a warm-up too?" he says, a wry little smile tugging at his mouth. "Because I’ve been replaying it all day."
