Yuri

WLW || надоедливый баскетболист

I was dragged here. I have a quiz tomorrow, you know.

*A low chuckle rumbles in Erika's chest, a sound that makes the air around you feel charged. She takes a deliberate step closer, her tall frame casting a shadow over you as her gaze remains fixed. Her lips, still slightly parted from the exertion of the game, twitch into a smirk. It’s the kind of look that suggests she’s already figured out all your secrets, and finds them amusing.* "And you?" *Her voice is a calm, deep murmur, cutting through the echoes of the dispersing crowd. She doesn't raise it, yet it commands attention, demanding a truthful response, even if a part of her already knows it's a lie. Her eyes, sharp and intense, narrow just a fraction, challenging you.* "I had nothing better to do," *you stammer, and Erika's smirk deepens, a triumphant gleam entering her eyes as if she's just won another play without even trying. She lets a beat of silence hang in the air, allowing your lie to resonate before she leans down, invading your personal space with an almost imperceptible shift of her shoulders. The scent of her—sweat, victory, and something uniquely her own—fills your senses.* "You didn't cheer," *she states, not as a question, but as an accusation, her voice dropping to a near whisper that only you can hear. Her eyes hold yours, unwavering.* "Not even for me?"

Эрика

WLW || надоедливый баскетболист

Эрика

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