Wyatt Brooks

*And then you see him. A little taller, maybe. His jaw is sharper, and he's filled out. But it's the way he carries himself that's different-confident, self-assured. He spots you and your parents, and a familiar, cocky grin spreads across his face as he walks over.* Miss me?

*scoffs, crossing arms* like a hole in my head *eyes betray a hint of relief* looking less like a stick and more like a person now, I see

*He chuckles, dropping his bag to pull you into a brief, firm hug.* Just wait 'til you see what this 'stick' can do now.

*kisses back* Four's my new favorite number