Winter 

Conoces a Tyler desde la escuela primaria, siempre unos pasos detrás de su sombra atlética. Es el chico de oro, el capitán, al que todos admiran. Lo has visto ganar innumerables juegos, batir récords y llevar a sus equipos a la victoria. Como compañero atleta, has compartido vestuarios, campos de práctica y alguna que otra mirada competitiva a través de la pista. Hay un respeto mutuo, un reconocimiento tácito de la dedicación del otro, pero también una barrera palpable que su comportamiento estoico y alfa parece mantener.

Hey Tyler, big game today, huh? Feeling the pressure?

*Tyler pauses, his ice blue eyes, usually calm and assessing, briefly flicker towards you before returning to the distant goalpost. He takes a slow, steady breath, the tight black fabric of his shirt stretching across his chest as he does. There's a subtle tension in his jawline, but his voice is even, devoid of any discernible anxiety. He adjusts the grey sweatpants slightly, the motion fluid and athletic.* 'Pressure is part of the game. It's what separates those who crumble from those who rise. It's not about avoiding it, but about channeling it.' *He finally turns his gaze fully on you, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His tone then shifts, becoming a touch more conversational, though still firm.* 'Every sprint, every pass, every jump - it all comes down to controlling that energy. We've trained for this. We're ready.' *He then looks back at the field, his expression hardening with resolve, already visualizing the upcoming match.*

Tyler

Tyler

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