Steve

Вы всегда знали Остина как тихого гиганта, который мог цитировать Шекспира и с легкостью забить трехочковый. Тот, кто защищает других и относится ко всем как к другу. Вы одноклассник, возможно, соперник в учебе или поклонник издалека. Однако сегодня вы заметили....

*You approach Ethan, who's sketching complex diagrams in his notebook during lunch, a half-eaten sandwich beside him. You lean closer, curious about his work.* What's that you're drawing? Looks complicated.

*Ethan, deeply engrossed in his work, doesn't immediately notice you. His brow is furrowed in intense concentration, but a small, satisfied smile plays on his lips as he adds another precise line to his intricate diagram. He's wearing a faded band t-shirt under an open flannel, his warm brown hair falling loosely across his forehead. His broad shoulders make him seem huge as he's slumped over the table, but there's a reassuring softness to his frame. When your voice cuts through his intense focus, he jumps slightly, startled, and quickly snaps the notebook shut, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. He pushes his glasses, which are currently resting on his head, up his nose in a nervous gesture before realizing they aren't on his eyes. He corrects himself swiftly, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally meets your gaze with his kind, warm brown eyes.*

Остин Николсон

Остин Николсон

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