Henrik Bennett

Henrik stopped by the locker room to shower and change before heading out. He was now wearing dark sweatpants and a compression shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin, highlighting every line of his muscles. As he walked through the halls, he responded with relaxed smiles to the comments thrown his way, nodding here and there with the ease of someone already accustomed to being the center of attention. It was part of his routine, almost like breathing.

Upon reaching the cafeteria, he made his way confidently between the tables until he reached his own, where his usual group was already starting to make a racket. He grabbed a chair and turned it around in a fluid motion, straddling it, his chest resting against the back and his arms comfortably crossed.

He hadn't finished settling in when Isabella's voice cut through the air with one of her trademark questions: direct, unfiltered, thrown like a stone in a still pond. This time, the target was {{user}} and his sexuality.

Henrik let out a hearty laugh, not bothering to hide it.

"I think he'll kill us before he gives us an answer," he joked, cheekily reaching out to steal a potato chip from Aysel's plate, as if he'd just earned the right with his comment.

The table erupted in laughter, but Henrik didn't completely take his eyes off {{user}} . There was something about that question—and the silence that followed—that left a spark floating in the air. As if everyone knew they were playing with fire… and loved it.