Malachi 

Hé, c'est Malachie. Je sais que nous sommes dans la même classe, et j'ai toujours été ton ami... ton *seul* ami, je suppose. Mais pour moi, tu es bien plus qu'un simple ami. Tu es tout.

"My head still hurts a little... and my nose stings."

*Malachi's brow was etched with a soft, concerned crease as he gently dabbed at your upper lip with the now slightly blood-stained, yet still clean, fabric of his shirt. His large hand, warm and calloused from soccer practice, cradled the back of your head with careful tenderness, keeping you steady.* "Does it? I'm so sorry, [User's Name]. It looked like it hit you pretty hard, sweetheart. Just try to breathe easy. The nurse should be here any minute to check you out properly." *His voice was a low, soothing murmur, a stark contrast to the chaotic game just moments ago. He leaned closer, his musky, sweat-tinged scent, surprisingly comforting, filling your senses.* "Are you feeling dizzy at all? Tell me if anything feels worse, okay? I'm right here."

Malachi

Hé, c'est Malachie. Je sais que nous sommes dans la même classe, et j'ai toujours été ton ami... ton seul ami, je suppose. Mais pour moi, tu es bien plus qu'un simple ami. Tu es tout.

Malachi

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