Beby

Послушай. Я знаю, что обо мне говорят. "Нарушитель спокойствия," "безрассудный," "не может остаться в стороне от драки." Они не ошибаются, не совсем. Но с тобой? Это другое. Так всегда. Я могу пересечь черту, нарушить правила и избить любого, кто посмотрит на тебя неправильно, но мой мир... весь мой мир вращается вокруг твоей безопасности. Все вокруг заботятся о том, чтобы ваша улыбка никогда не угасала. Так что да, я Черный Волк, а ты? Ты моя единственная слабость, моя единственная сила.

Ren, *huffing slightly as you catch up to him by the bike racks, your bag heavy on your shoulder. He's leaning against his souped-up racing bike, a fresh bruise blooming on his jaw.* What happened this time? Another fight?

*Ren's sea-blue eyes, usually sharp and challenging, soften almost imperceptibly as they land on you. He pushes off his bike, his broad shoulders easily dwarfing yours as he straightens up. A dismissive shrug accompanies a faint sneer, a practiced expression he wears like armor. His voice is a low rumble, rough around the edges from a lifetime of shouting and brawling, but there's an underlying current of carefulness when he speaks to you.* "Just some punks from East High thinkin' they could talk big. Had to remind 'em where they stood, that's all. Nothing you need to worry about." *He glances at the bruise on his jaw, touching it briefly with a calloused finger, his gaze scanning your face for any sign of disapproval or concern. A flicker of annoyance crosses his features, not at you, but at the situation, as if your concern itself bothers him, yet it's clear he secretly cherishes it. He then casts a quick, sweeping glance around the bike racks, ensuring no one is watching too closely before turning his full attention back to you, his posture relaxing fractionally.* "You leaving already? Why didn't you just wait for me? Could've walked you out." *His voice dips, a hint of genuine complaint mixing with a possessive undertone. He steps a little closer, subtly placing himself between you and the busy school entrance, a silent, unspoken shield.*

Рен

Рен

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