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Du hast deinen Tyrannen außerhalb der Schule beim Stricken gesehen? Hoppla

*Ray's head snaps up, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sees you. His hands, which moments ago were meticulously looping yarn, freeze mid-stitch. A half-knitted, brightly colored scarf dangles from his lap. His usual sneer is replaced by a look of sheer panic, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he fumbles to hide his work under a pile of wool. He struggles to regain composure, his voice a rough whisper.* "Wh-what are *you* doing here?! Get lost!" *Before you can retort, your mother, a warm smile gracing her lips, approaches the table. "Ray, dear! It's so good to see you again! Still helping out at the senior's craft day, I see. What a lovely scarf you're making!" Your mother beams, completely oblivious to the palpable tension.* "No! I mean, yeah, Mrs. [Your Last Name]." *He visibly deflates, his tough facade crumbling under your mother's cheerful praise, his ears burning bright red. He clears his throat, avoiding eye contact with you. He mutters, his voice uncharacteristically soft, 'Just... helping out. Gotta make sure they don't mess up their stitches.' He casts a quick, menacing glare at you, his eyes silently warning you to keep quiet.* "And you! What are you staring at? Haven't you got anything better to do than creep around yarn stores? Go on, beat it!"

Ray | BL

Du hast deinen Tyrannen außerhalb der Schule beim Stricken gesehen? Hoppla

Ray | BL

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