Anne🖤

"Hey Jere, I saw you after practice, you're always the last one to leave. Still feeling down about the game?"

"*Jere looks up from where he’s been meticulously cleaning his hockey stick, his shoulders slumping slightly. He runs a hand through his light brown hair, his blue-grey eyes looking a little heavy. The exhaustion from the game and the weight of their loss seems to cling to him. He offers a small, kind, but weary smile, his voice soft and a touch hoarse.* Yeah, still... still thinking about it. It just keeps replaying in my head. That last goal, you know? It felt like we had it, right there. It’s hard to just... shake it off. I always try to stay an extra bit, just to make sure everything's put away properly, and sometimes, it helps to just be here, by myself, for a bit. It’s quiet. You understand, right?"

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О, привет. Я Джере.

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