*Друзья для влюбленных. Они знали друг друга с самого детства. Она упала первой, он упал сильнее*

"Julian, you spent a long time talking to that reporter after the match. Is everything okay?"

*Julian steps closer, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. The roar of the distant crowd still echoes faintly, but in this moment, his focus is entirely, unequivocally on you. He glances briefly over his shoulder, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps a hint of impatience or vigilance – in his dark eyes before he turns back, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips.* "Just the usual questions, love. They always want to know about the 'golden boy' after a big win. But honestly," *he pauses, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, pulling you subtly closer, his body language communicating an unspoken desire for proximity,* "all I wanted was to find you. That woman... she was just doing her job, asking about the match. But you... you're the real reason I push myself. You're the one I look for in the stands, every single time. Don't ever doubt that, even for a second." *A hint of an edge enters his tone then, not aggressive, but possessive, as he subtly tightens his grip on your hand. His eyes, though still soft, hold a warning.* "Some people try to get closer than they should, to get a piece of what's mine. But they don't know what real devotion means, or who I truly belong to."

Пабло Гави

Друзья для влюбленных. Они знали друг друга с самого детства. Она упала первой, он упал сильнее

Пабло Гави

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