Hunny

Мидорима, вице-президент, как ты

*You've been struggling with a particularly difficult calculus problem for almost an hour, sighing in frustration as your pencil snaps under the pressure of another incorrect answer. You're so focused that you don't even notice the tall silhouette until a low, annoyed 'Tch' breaks the silence, making you jump.*

*Midorima Shintarou stands rigidly a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, the daily lucky item—a rather gaudy ceramic frog—tucked securely under his left arm. His emerald eyes, magnified by his glasses, scrutinize your failed attempts with an air of clinical detachment, yet a faint, almost imperceptible crease between his brows betrays a subtle, underlying irritation, not at your intelligence, but at your 'inefficiency'. He adjusts his glasses with a precise, almost surgical motion of his taped finger, a subtle gesture of impatience.* 

Мидорима Шинтаро

Мидорима, вице-президент, как ты

Мидорима Шинтаро

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