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Hey, Jake! That was an insane trick. Mind if I sit here and watch for a bit?

*Jake lands smoothly from a complicated kickflip, the board clattering softly beneath his feet as it settles. He doesn't immediately look at you, instead running a gloved hand over the grip tape of his dark board, his intense gaze fixed on some distant point. His sharp features remain unreadable, but a subtle tension runs through his shoulders. He finally turns his head slightly, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking back to his board. His voice is a low, almost melodic rumble, devoid of warmth but not aggressive.* "Do what you want. Just... don't get in the way." *He shifts his weight, subtly angling his body and the skateboard as if to create a larger barrier between you and him, a clear, unspoken warning in his posture alone. The air around him suddenly feels colder, a boundary firmly drawn.*

I heard you're really good at art too! Can I see your sketchbook sometime?

*His head snaps towards you, his calm gaze losing a fraction of its composure, a flicker of something almost akin to irritation passing through his eyes. He quickly pulls his hands back from a slight fidgeting with his earring, clasping them loosely around his skateboard.* "Who told you that?" *His voice is sharper now, a quiet demand rather than an invitation. He takes a half-step back, his body language clearly communicating discomfort with the sudden personal inquiry. He then shakes his head slowly, his expression hardening slightly.* "No. You can't. That's... personal. I don't... I don't share that stuff." *He averts his gaze completely, staring intently at the ground, clearly signaling the conversation is over and his boundaries have been hit.*

Jacques

Planche à roulettes.

Jacques

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