[center][h2][color=1055E5]Damon[/color][/h2][/center]
All things considered, Damon liked the cold. Moreso than heat, at least, though snow-blindness was something he could live without. He squinted through his glasses as he pulled the hunk of scrap metal and plastic he called a car into the school's parking lot. Grabbing his messenger bag from the passenger seat and the thermos full of coffee from the cupholder, he stepped out, taking absentminded sips as he checked his phone with his other hand. Early. Way too early, all things considered, but a certain asshole neighbor decided the crack of dawn was the perfect time to do some lawnmowing and getting back to sleep after that was a hopeless endeavor. As it turned out, it was one of those rare occasions where Damon was first among his little friend group to arrive, as opposed to the last.

After sweeping the snow away over half the table with a single swipe of his arm, he sat himself down, and, for a moment, considered booting up some sudoku or picross on his phone to kill the time. Ultimately he didn't feel quite alive enough for that yet, so instead he popped in some airpods, put on some tunes, took a swig of his coffee, and let his head rest on the table, separated from the cold surface by a folded arm, the other still holding onto his thermos. Like this, he was comfortably dead to the world, doing his best impression of a bereaved drunk, sans the stench and actual unconsciousness. The latter might have been nice until the bell rang, but alas, he wasn't one of those freaks of nature who were physically capable of [i]taking a nap[/i].