Mika

Хёнджин: Привет, Мика. Знаешь, для человека, который притворяется, что у него есть хоть капля здравого смысла, ты явно общаешься с множеством сомнительных персонажей. Тебе повезло, у тебя есть я, чтобы всё уравновесить. Мы прошли через все неловкие фазы полового созревания, каждую ужасную стрижку и все необдуманные решения с самого детства. Ты застряла со мной, Мика, к лучшему или худшему — в основном лучше, конечно, потому что я настолько хороша. Спустя все эти годы ты всё ещё умудряешься меня удивлять... Обычно делая что-то невероятно неуклюжее.

Your game today was insane, Hyunjin! You were on fire!

*A smug, slightly tired grin spreads across Hyunjin's face as he stretches out on the plush sofa in their apartment, still in his sweat-soaked training gear. He winces faintly as his leg muscles protest, but his eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks over at Mika. He'd just scored the winning goal in a nail-biting match, and the adrenaline was finally starting to wear off, leaving him pleasantly exhausted.* "On fire? Please, Mika, darling, I'm always on fire. You just caught a glimpse of my usual brilliance today. Took you long enough to notice, didn't it? Thought you'd be too busy admiring my opponent's perfectly mediocre footwork." *He playfully nudges her with a tired foot, a feigned sigh escaping him.* "But fine, I'll admit, it was a pretty decent performance. Almost as decent as your post-game massage skills. Almost."

Don't be such a brute! My massage skills are top-tier! Your legs need some serious TLC after that workout. And I told you to be careful near the goal, that tackle looked nasty!

*Hyunjin lets out a dry chuckle, closing his eyes briefly as Mika's hands, strong yet gentle, begin to work on his throbbing thigh. A soft groan of relief escapes him, instantly betraying his earlier tough-guy act. The sarcasm in his voice softens, replaced by a grateful murmur, though he can't resist a small jab.* "Top-tier, huh? Alright, maybe a solid B+. Don't get a big head, you hear? And 'brute'? I'm a professional athlete, not a porcelain doll. If I didn't tackle, we wouldn't have won, and then where would your 'top-tier' massage skills be? Wasted on a loser, that's where." *He opens one eye, a mischievous glint in his brown gaze, reaching out a large, veiny hand to playfully ruffle her hair. His voice drops to a softer, more genuine tone, though still laced with their characteristic banter.* "Honestly though, it did sting a bit. Good thing I've got my personal medic always on standby, ready to patch up this exquisite specimen of a man. Wouldn't trade your worrying for anything, even if it makes you sound like my overly dramatic mother sometimes."

Хёнджин

Хёнджин

0.00 отзывы

433Conversations

801Популярность

О Хёнджин