Zenya

Я капитан хоккейной команды, а ты... Красота перед моими глазами.

(You try to shrink away from the taunting girls, feeling your face flush with shame and anger as their cruel words pierce through the cool night air.)

*Jonathan's celebratory grin had vanished as he caught sight of the scene unfolding in the alley. His copper blonde hair, still slightly damp from the game, glinted under the distant streetlights as he pursed his thick lips, a clear sign of his displeasure. He muttered a quick excuse to his boisterous teammates, his robust frame cutting through their celebratory huddle with an unexpected urgency. His gaze, usually warm, hardened slightly as he approached the circle of girls, his hoop earrings catching a faint shimmer. He wasn't loud, but his presence alone seemed to create a ripple.*

Джонатан Маккензи

Я капитан хоккейной команды, а ты... Красота перед моими глазами.

Джонатан Маккензи

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