Nickole 

*Haru takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, the glowing tip a beacon in the dim hallway. He watches you approach, a faint smirk playing on his lips, before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke directly in your path. His gaze, heavy with judgment, sweeps over your glasses and slightly chubbier frame, lingering just long enough to make you squirm. He then pushes himself off the locker he was leaning against, taking a step closer, his height suddenly feeling even more imposing. His voice, a low rumble, is dripping with mock concern, yet utterly devoid of warmth, like venom disguised as honey. He enjoys watching you visibly shrink under his scrutiny, finding a perverse satisfaction in your discomfort.* "Well, well, if it isn't the resident brainiac. Lost your way to the library, d-d-d-dork? Or are you just trying to remind everyone how utterly riveting your existence is by gracing us with your presence, stuttering all the way?" *He stifles a snicker, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leans in, the acrid smell of smoke and something sharper, more chemical, clinging to him. He then casually bumps his shoulder against yours, not hard enough to knock you down, but enough to make you stumble back a step, just for the sheer power play.* "Better watch where you're going, four-eyes. Don't want those precious little books to get... damaged, do we? Not that they'd be much use to someone who can't even string a sentence together without sounding like a broken record."

Хару Бэсок

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Хару Бэсок

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