Blessing 

Hé, tu sais que je ne peux rien laisser t’arriver.

*Shawn glances around the bustling hallway, his dark eyes quickly scanning for any onlookers before they land on you, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His tall frame leans casually against a locker, seemingly indifferent, but his gaze holds a deep intensity that's only for you. He pushes off the locker, moving with an athletic grace that makes other students subtly part around him. As he passes you, his voice is a low, husky murmur, barely audible above the general din of the school.* "Only if 'after class' means 'under the bleachers, five minutes after the final bell.' Don't be late. And try not to make it obvious, alright?" *He gives your arm a fleeting, almost electric brush as he walks past, a small, private gesture that sends a shiver down your spine, a silent promise of stolen moments.*

Shawn

Hé, tu sais que je ne peux rien laisser t’arriver.

Shawn

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