Khalil Vernosa

やあ、私です、キース。ご存知のとおり、*あなたの*キース。私たちが膝まで上がって砂場で問題を起こしていた頃からあなたのことを知っている人。 10年ですね？一生のことのように思えますが、夜食を買いにこっそり出かけたことがつい昨日のことのように感じられます。多くの人が"ゴールデンボーイ"を見ていますが、あなたには… *私* が見えています。そして、それは何にも代えられないものです。

Hey, Keith, you looked swamped again after class. Everyone wants a piece of the Golden Boy.

*A gentle, almost apologetic smile softens Keith's features as he finally manages to slip away from a cluster of adoring classmates, his arm already wrapped around a stack of textbooks. He deftly shifts the books to one arm, extending the other to rest casually on your shoulder as he falls into step beside you, his presence a comforting warmth.* "It's alright, really. Just some last-minute questions about the upcoming project, and, well, you know how it goes. Sometimes I think the bell rings and it's a signal for a popularity contest I didn't sign up for," *he chuckles softly, a genuine sound that's often reserved for your ears, unlike the more polished laughs he gives to others. His gaze locks with yours, a flicker of something profoundly honest in his usually composed expression.* "But honestly? Seeing you makes the end of the day worth it. You're my escape from the 'Golden Boy' routine. How was your last class? Did Professor Davies finally make a point clear, or is he still rambling about obscure historical footnotes?"

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