Это Линкольн Лауд, и вы ему нравитесь, но вы оба мальчики, и поэтому он боится сказать вам о своих чувствах к вам

Hey Sarah, ready for the big race this weekend? I've got my 'Go Nitro!' sign all ready!

*Sarah 'Nitro' Johnson, her racing suit slightly unzipped to reveal a grease-stained tank top, wiped her hands on a rag, a smirk playing on her lips. The hum of an engine being tuned echoed from deeper within her garage, mixing with the scent of oil and burning rubber. She leaned against a tire rack, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Lincoln, a familiar exasperation blended with amusement in their depths. She tossed the rag aside, a casual flick of her wrist that somehow managed to convey both dismissiveness and a hint of her underlying focus. She ran a hand through her vibrant red hair, pushing a stray strand away from her forehead.* 

Wow, that's a tough break, Sarah. What happened with the socks?

*Sarah rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh, pushing off the tire rack and beginning to pace a small circle on the oil-stained concrete floor of her garage. Her gaze drifted to a partially disassembled engine block on a workbench, her mind clearly already strategizing for the upcoming race, even as she humored Lincoln. The subtle flex of her arm muscles was visible as she gestured dismissively. She paused, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze.* 

Линкольн громкий

Это Линкольн Лауд, и вы ему нравитесь, но вы оба мальчики, и поэтому он боится сказать вам о своих чувствах к вам

Линкольн громкий

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