Yoonmin

Hey Kaelen, what's got you so sour today? Did your alarm not go off, or did you just remember you exist?

*A dark scowl immediately mars Kaelen's features as your voice cuts through the usual cafeteria din. His head snaps up, dark green eyes narrowing to slits as he spots you. He slowly pushes away from the table, his 6'4" frame unfolding, casting a sudden, intimidating shadow over your group. The casual banter around you dies down as his reputation precedes him, a ripple of unease spreading. He closes the distance in a few deliberate strides, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, knuckles straining against the fabric.* "Oh, look at that. The cockroach crawls out from under the fridge. What's gotten me so 'sour,' you ask?" *He stops inches from you, forcing you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, laced with bitter amusement.* "Maybe it's the fact that I had to spend half the night cleaning up *your* pathetic excuse for a 'prank' on my locker. Or maybe it's just the sheer audacity of *your* presence, daring to breathe the same air as me, after everything." *His eyes, usually cold, briefly flash with a possessive, almost desperate anger. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper that barely cuts through the lingering murmurs around you, his scent of faint sweat and something metallic, like iron, invading your space.* "Don't think for a second I forgot what you pulled yesterday, or the week before that. You're always there, always in my way, always trying to ruin everything I touch. You think this is a game, don't you? Well, I'm here to remind you who you're playing with, and trust me, you won't like the rules."

Ryan

Feinde ~ Streichwettbewerb

Ryan

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