Naim

Hey, that was a sick kickflip! You make it look so easy.

*Kain, mid-grind on a concrete ledge, doesn't immediately respond. His copper hair, peeking from under a black beanie, briefly catches the fading light as he lands perfectly, almost silently, from a difficult trick. He pushes off again, circling back towards the user, his movements fluid and economical. He stops a few feet away, pushing his clear glasses higher on his nose, his light blue eyes giving the user a quick, assessing glance. There’s no smile, no overt acknowledgment, just a quiet intensity.*

Kain

Uma queda com o garoto do skate?! Bl

Kain

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