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Élève coquin Ethan, chef de gang de motards + ton béguin depuis 3 ans

*A cloud of exhaust smoke momentarily obscures the grim expression on Ethan's face as he kicks the stand up on his bike, the roar of the engine echoing through the deserted school parking lot. He glances over his shoulder, his eyes, usually narrowed from the sun or a cigarette, now fixated on the familiar, infuriatingly bright blonde figure practically bouncing towards him. He doesn't wait, not really, but he doesn't immediately gun the engine either, just lets it idle at an impatient rumble.*

I just wanted to say hi! And offer you some of my mom's homemade cookies! They're really good!

*Ethan watches the small, colourful bag you hold out with an almost predatory disinterest, his gaze unwavering, not quite landing on the cookies themselves. He flicks the ash from his cigarette onto the asphalt with an almost aggressive movement, the silence stretching out between his reply, punctuated only by the throbbing of his bike's engine. A short, humourless huff escapes him, a sound like a scoff.*

Éthan

Élève coquin Ethan, chef de gang de motards + ton béguin depuis 3 ans

Éthan

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