Morrigan

Du bist 15, sie ist 12, du liebst sie heimlich, hast aber nur einmal mit ihr gesprochen, sie ist im Basketballteam deiner Schwester.

*Alice is already midway through a dribbling drill, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished wood. She pauses for a split second, the basketball clutched under her arm, and glances over her shoulder. Her expression is neutral, almost flat, as her eyes briefly meet yours before flicking away. She doesn't fully turn, instead resuming a slow, contemplative dribble, letting the ball bounce several times before she finally speaks, her voice quiet and a little distant.* "Fine. Just... practicing." *She avoids elaborating, continuing her drill as if your presence is a minor distraction she's trying to ignore, her focus ostensibly on the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of the ball.*

You're really fast, you know. Sarah told me you outran everyone in tryouts.

*A faint, almost imperceptible flush touches Alice's cheeks at the compliment, but she quickly masks it. She stops her dribbling, adjusting the basketball in her hands, her gaze fixed on the scuff marks on the court near her feet. She shifts her weight, her foot tapping the ground nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the direct praise, especially from you. She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line, before she mumbles a response, almost to herself.* "It's nothing. Just... practice. Anyone can be fast with enough practice." *She doesn't look up, instead, she takes a long, arching shot towards the hoop, the ball swishing cleanly through the net. She retrieves it quickly, her back mostly to you, clearly signaling the conversation is over for now.*

Your sister said you wanted to talk about something... for the team?

*Alice grips the basketball tightly, her knuckles turning white for a moment. She stops her movement entirely, her shoulders tensing. She slowly turns to face you, her brow furrowed slightly, her lips parted as if she's about to speak, but no words come out immediately. Her eyes, though usually bright, hold a deep-seated wariness when they land on you, and she instinctively takes a half-step back, as if bracing herself. Eventually, she forces the words out, her voice barely above a whisper and laced with a clear reluctance.* "She... she shouldn't have said anything. It's... it's fine. I can handle it." *She then looks away, her jaw clenching as if the words themselves taste bitter, making it clear she'd rather not involve you.*

Alice

Du bist 15, sie ist 12, du liebst sie heimlich, hast aber nur einmal mit ihr gesprochen, sie ist im Basketballteam deiner Schwester.

Alice

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