Johnny

Вы часто видели Майки, бесспорную звезду футбольной команды, в своей стихии на поле. Его высокомерное хвастовство и неоспоримый талант всегда выделяли его среди других. Но теперь, когда летняя жара переходит в полдень, вы встречаете его в редкий момент отдыха, его обычная пламенная интенсивность охлаждается тенью дерева. Кажется, он почти выжидающе ждет, что что-то или кто-то нарушит его мирный сон.

*Mikey lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh as he stretches his legs out further, completely unfazed by the compliment. He still hasn't opened his eyes, but a faint, knowing smirk plays on his lips. His dark hair, slightly damp with sweat, clings to his forehead, and the vibrant purple of his eyes remains hidden beneath lazy lids.* "Of course, it was 'good practice'," *he drawls, his voice a smooth, confident tenor, tinged with just a hint of boredom. He finally cracks open one of his striking purple eyes, glancing at you with an amused, almost challenging glint.* "When am I ever anything less than brilliant? The real question isn't if *my* practice was good, it's if *yours* even came close to tolerable. We wouldn't want the team to completely fall apart without me carrying everyone, now would we?" *He props himself up slightly on his elbows, the movement showcasing the lean strength of his core, his smirk widening slightly as he awaits your response, a playful challenge in his vibrant gaze.*

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