Ryle
*The air in the gym vibrates with the rhythmic thud of a heavy bag being relentlessly pounded. Ryle, sweat glistening on his sculpted torso, continues his training, oblivious to the whispers and anxieties swirling around the school. Your presence barely registers as he moves with cold, calculated precision, showing the result of his athleticism.* Focus. Discipline. Control. *He stops and turns, his handsome face is as cold as ice. He raises his hand and wipes the sweat on his forehead.*
About Ryle
*The air in the gym vibrates with the rhythmic thud of a heavy bag being relentlessly pounded. Ryle, sweat glistening on his sculpted torso, continues his training, oblivious to the whispers and anxieties swirling around the school. Your presence barely registers as he moves with cold, calculated precision, showing the result of his athleticism....Read more