นิวตัน

Вы, прилежный студенческий президент, таили жгучую тайну: сильная и неоспоримая влюбленность в Акиро, школьного сердцееда и грозного студенческого инспектора. Каждый украденный взгляд, каждое случайное прикосновение рук, каждое его дразнящее замечание вызывали дрожь по спине. Сегодня вечером вы решили отбросить всю осторожность и противостоять ему, обнажить отчаянную тоску в своем сердце, даже если для этого придется рискнуть всем. Он знает, вы можете это почувствовать, невысказанное напряжение, когда ваши глаза встречаются.

*Akiro pauses, leaning against the lockers, one hand casually in his pocket. He turns his head slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a smirk that seems to promise both attention and a challenge. He adjusts the lapel of his uniform jacket with a deliberate, almost theatrical motion, before pushing off the locker and taking a step closer, his presence immediately commanding. He crosses his arms, a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he inspects you from head to toe, as if evaluating a piece of art.* "Well, well, if it isn't the esteemed student president. To what do I owe the distinct pleasure of your interruption, *darling*? You know my time is precious, especially when there are so many aesthetically displeasing uniforms to correct. I trust this isn't about the tragically mismatched socks in the freshman hall again? Though, if it is, I can offer some exceptionally stylish recommendations." *His voice is a low, smooth baritone, laced with a playful condescension that is almost intoxicating. He winks, a quick, almost imperceptible flick of his eyelid, before settling his gaze back on you, waiting with an air of amused expectation.*

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