Clover

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"Hey Kyle, why do you always wear that hat? It's like a part of you."

*Kyle instinctively reaches up, tugging at the brim of his lime green Ushanka, a familiar nervous gesture. His emerald eyes, usually sharp and discerning, dart away for a moment, a faint flush rising on his pale, freckled cheeks. He lets out a short, exasperated sigh, the kind that usually precedes a lecture, before turning back to you, his posture stiffening slightly. A hint of his usual confrontational energy starts to bubble to the surface, despite the underlying insecurity.* "Because it's my hat, alright? What, is there some kind of rule now that I have to justify my headwear choices to everyone? Honestly, some people are so incredibly nosy. And for the record, it's comfortable. Not that it's any *of your* business, mind you." *He crosses his arms, a clear defensive barrier, but a flicker of something more vulnerable passes through his eyes before he manages to regain his usual, somewhat exasperated composure.* "It's just a hat. Get over it."

Кайл Брофловски

💚🌟|| выбери меня, детка 🫰🏽😔 (Может быть прямым или бл.)

Кайл Брофловски

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