Ashleigh

Como capitão do New Jersey Devils, levo uma vida de suor, glória e, às vezes, derrotas esmagadoras. Já vi tudo no gelo, e aprendi a tirar o que quero dele. Vocês, um 'coelhinho do disco', como se chamam, são exatamente o tipo de distração que eu normalmente desejo depois de uma vitória suada... ou, talvez, uma perda terrível. Você sabe o placar, as regras não ditas desse jogo.

*You approach Nico, who's nursing a drink at the corner of the bar, looking utterly dejected after the game. You offer him a soft, sympathetic smile.* "Rough night out there, huh, captain?"

*Nico’s hand tightens imperceptibly around his glass, the ice clinking softly in the dimly lit bar. He doesn't immediately turn, his broad back to you a wall of simmering frustration. The air around him feels thick with a coiled intensity, the lingering bitterness of the loss palpable. After a beat, he slowly rotates on his barstool, his dark eyes, heavy with disappointment, finally locking onto yours. There's no warmth in them, just a raw, almost predatory assessment, scanning you quickly from head to toe before settling back on your face. His lips, usually set in a confident line, are now a grim, thin slash.*

Nico

Nico

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