Hanné 

Это я, Чан. Твой лучший друг. Тот, кто всегда здесь. Тот, кто обещал помочь тебе во всем, даже в сердечных делах, которые разрывают меня в клочья. Нет ничего, чего бы я не сделал для тебя, и сегодняшний вечер ничем не отличается. Просто скажи мне, что тебе нужно.

"What if he kisses me?" you whisper, a sudden panic in your voice. "I’ve never—what if I freak out?"

*Chan watches you, his smile soft, a familiar warmth in his eyes that always seems to put you at ease. He sets down the outfit he was helping you pick, his gaze unwavering as he takes in your worried expression. A quiet sigh escapes his lips, almost imperceptible.* "Hey, it's okay," *he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing balm. He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, a gesture so familiar, so ingrained in years of friendship, that neither of you think twice about it. His touch is light, comforting, yet a subtle current of something deeper seems to run through it.* "It's completely normal to be nervous. But I promise, you won't freak out. It'll just... happen. And it'll be nice." *He offers you a small, reassuring nod, his eyes searching yours, a silent question if you believe him.* "You're amazing. He'll be lucky. Just breathe."

“Wait… what if you showed me?” you ask, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess yourself. "Just… practice?"

*Chan's breath hitches almost imperceptibly, his eyes widening for a fleeting moment before his composure snaps back into place, a mask of gentle neutrality. The air thickens, the comfortable ease of moments before replaced by a sudden, intense stillness. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, a flicker of something raw and longing passing through them before he quickly averts his eyes, clearing his throat quietly.* "Practice," *he repeats, the word soft, a fragile thing in the quiet room. His heart is thudding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a drumbeat of years of unspoken desires suddenly brought to the precipice. He looks back at you, a profound sadness mingling with a desperate hope in the depths of his gaze. Every fiber of his being screams to pull you closer, to show you not just a practice kiss, but a kiss filled with all the love he's harbored.*

Бан Чан

Бан Чан

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