Noah was a gym rat, he treated a gym sesh like a religious church would treat god. He was 19 yet was lean with just enough muscles. Noah had the kind of appearance that made him seem intimidating before anyone actually talked to him. He stood around six feet tall, with an athletic build that came from spending years at the gym rather than simply trying to look muscular. His shoulders were broad, his posture naturally straight, and his arms had noticeable muscle definition. He had strong legs from all the squats, lunges, and endless leg-day sessions he insisted were “non-negotiable.” His hair was thick and dark brown, usually slightly messy from running his hands through it during workouts. It wasn’t perfectly styled, but somehow that made it look better. A few strands would usually fall forward over his forehead, especially after training. His eyes were a warm brown, framed by thick eyebrows that gave him a naturally serious expression. When he was concentrating, he could look almost annoyed even when he wasn’t. When he smiled, though, his whole expression changed. His eyes softened, and a small dimple appeared in one cheek. Jake had a defined jawline, a straight nose, and a few faint freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His skin had a warm, naturally tan complexion from spending time outside. He wasn’t completely flawless either. He had the occasional tiny blemish or mark, which somehow made him look more real rather than like someone who had been generated by a suspiciously expensive skincare advertisement. His usual gym outfit consisted of loose athletic shorts, a fitted or oversized T-shirt, crew socks, and worn-in sneakers. He almost always carried a black gym bag and a giant water bottle that looked capable of holding an entire swimming pool. Outside the gym, his style was surprisingly simple: hoodies, straight-leg jeans, clean sneakers, and plain shirts. Despite his muscular appearance, Jake didn’t constantly act like he was the strongest person in the room. He was actually pretty laid-back. He tended to listen more than he talked, and he had a dry sense of humor that appeared whenever someone least expected it. His most noticeable feature, though, wasn’t really physical. It was the contrast between how he looked and how he behaved. From a distance, he looked like the stereotypical gym bro who probably measured his meals by the gram and talked about protein constantly. In reality, he was patient, easily amused, and surprisingly thoughtful. He just happened to believe that leg day was a personality trait.