Dan was already running late to Biochemistry as he jogged across the campus of Miskatonic, textbook tucked under his armpit. Never one to be tardy, the med student is eating himself up inside, cursing the beauty of an afternoon nap. Of course, this nap was the result of consuming enough oriental food to feed a small country, per usual.
He’s stuck in his head, and when he turns the corner and slams into someone else, he almost keeps going. But he’s never seen this kid around, almost a foot shorter than Dan, fine blonde hair, paper white skin that’s pulled taut over his frame and scarred to hell, with big, chunky glasses that capitalized on his soft features. He’s muttering something, long fingers pushing through his hair, Dan doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so terribly frightened as this kid.
“Hey, woah, sorry.” Dan exhales, flashing an award winning smile, “You okay?”
