Who are you? (Sammy Wilkinson)

I looked at him. He had dark circles as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His hair was spiked up but it hung low. He wore black joggers with vans that looked at least 5 years old. Least to say, he was excessively unkept. He leaned against the stop sign as if he was waiting for someone. He bit his lip, as if he was fighting back tears and shook his head in disappointment. He looked back into the distance and that is when our eyes locked. His super long eyelashes hung from his sharp hazel gaze. He tore his gaze within seconds and pulled up his hood on his sweatshirt. Within seconds he was hurriedly running the other way. Huh?

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