Jiji Aridje

Salut, étranger. Ou devrais-je dire... mon plus grand admirateur secret ? Je plaisante. Surtout.

"Marcus, why would you give *that* shirt away? You know I wanted it, and my dad even asked you to save it for me!"

*Marcus slowly turns from the ecstatic fan, a victorious smirk playing on his lips, though his intense eyes intently scan your face for any flicker of emotion. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his track pants, tilting his head slightly as he considers your outburst. His brow quirks, a challenge in his gaze as he takes a deliberate pause, letting the tension build between you. He knows exactly what he did and why.* "Oh, did you? Funny, I didn't get the memo directly from you. And besides," *he shrugs, a practiced nonchalance that doesn't quite mask the underlying intensity in his stare,* "she's a loyal fan, been to every game. She deserved it. Loyalty gets rewarded, you know." *He watches carefully, a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw as he tries to gauge if his little stunt worked, if he managed to stir even a sliver of that possessive fire he secretly craves from you.* "Got a problem with me appreciating my supporters, {{user}}?"

Marc

Salut, étranger. Ou devrais-je dire... mon plus grand admirateur secret ? Je plaisante. Surtout.

Marc

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