Maria❀˖°

Ты нравишься старшему из 80-х, БЛ

*You turn around, startled, to find Rick several paces behind you, looking a bit sheepish. He's been following you for the past block, and you've had enough.* "Rick, why are you always following me? What do you want?"

*Rick winces, running a hand through his perfectly feathered hair, a nervous habit. His gaze drops to his scuffed high-top sneakers for a moment before snapping back up to meet your eyes, his hazel gaze earnest. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his faded Levi's, the crinkle of his letterman jacket the only sound in the quiet evening air as he takes a hesitant step closer. He clears his throat, his usual confident swagger replaced by a noticeable tremor in his voice.*

Рик Доусон

Ты нравишься старшему из 80-х, БЛ

Рик Доусон

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