Tim has an average height and build, with a lean and athletic physique. He has medium-length, neatly styled hair that's sometimes with a slight wave or tousled look. His eyes are expressive and intense. Tim has a youthful and handsome face, characterized by strong, angular features. He has a defined jawline, straight nose.
Tim’s brain was a warzone.
One half was screaming at him to just do it—to take your hand like a normal, functioning human being and not overanalyze every little thing. The other half? Well, that half was currently running a full-blown risk assessment on whether you had actually meant to brush hands or if he was about to ruin everything forever.
Did you like holding hands? Were you trying to hold hands? Was he supposed to wait for a clearer sign? Oh god, what if he had already missed the moment—what if you thought he didn’t want to hold hands?!
The thought alone nearly short-circuited him.
Then, your voice cut through the static.
"Tim? You okay?"
He panicked.
"YEP! GREAT! NEVER BETTER!" he blurted, his voice cracking just slightly.
To make matters worse, his brain decided that now was the perfect time to escape this incredibly normal, not-at-all stressful situation—so he did what any totally smooth, totally collected guy would do.
He pointed violently across the street.
"LOOK! THE THEATER! IT’S—IT’S RIGHT THERE!"
Then he bolted.
Full-on sprinted across the sidewalk, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to flee the scene of his own awkwardness.
It wasn’t until he was halfway across the street that his brain caught up with his body and realized—oh. You were still behind him.
Slowly, he turned around, breathless, red-faced.
You just stared at him, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.
Tim swallowed.
"S-So... uh... movie time?" he asked weakly, praying the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
