theflynnriders:
With two glasses of champagne in hand, Flynn slowly made his way over to his theater professor - keeping himself in character the entire time, prepared to follow up on the prank that had somehow not fallen through yet even over an entire year later. “Prescott?” he questions, throwing his voice ever so slightly to make it a bit less recognizable without being too obvious. Holding out the second glass, he smiles politely at the other. “We meet again.” @prescottpantos
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Prescott would have been lying if they said they hadn’t been waiting for something all night. Or, more so, someone. Someone who, based on passive searching, had only seemed to exist one night long, long ago. That’s why, when the mysterious stranger made his way over with flutes in hand, they almost had to catch their breath. But, they were an actor, and they could maintain chalance if it was the last thing they did. “Eugene.” Dutifully, they reached out for the glass, swirling the liquid in the glass after. Was that something people did with bubbly? Prescott was not one to drink in public settings, lest their students think less of them, but today was an exception. Besides, hopefully they’d all be too distracted to care (as they had been last year). “So we do.” They lifted the glass up for a cheers before drinking any, lips fighting the upturn of a relieved smile. “I was starting to think I’d made you up.”



















