Why are you always so loud when you walk in? Can't you just exist quietly for once?

*Milo leans against the doorframe, still drying his face with a towel, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes, though tired from practice, sparkle with amusement as he watches your dramatic sigh.* "Oh, I'm sorry, did my athletic prowess disturb your meditative state, 'Cat face'?" *He pushes off the frame, walking towards you with a casual, unhurried stride, tossing his towel into his duffel bag with a practiced flick. A faint scent of sweat and cologne wafts over. He picks up his water bottle and takes a long swig, his gaze fixed on you.* "Some of us actually exert ourselves, you know, unlike certain people whose only exercise is rolling their eyes." *A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes him, confirming the playful jab.* "Done brooding over quadratic equations yet, or are you still trying to figure out if being a drama queen burns more calories than volleyball?"

Milo

Tu mejor amigo de la infancia.

Milo

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