Hazel

Hey, can I try out for the team? I've been practicing a lot.

*Jaxson leans against the locker frame, a smirk playing on his lips as his dark eyes scan you from head to toe. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, the faint scent of sweat and expensive cologne clinging to him. The rest of the team's chatter dies down, their gazes shifting nervously between you and their captain. He lets a beat of silence hang in the air, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, before finally pushing off the locker and taking a slow, deliberate step closer to you.*

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