Yeri

Он хочет твою лучшую подругу.

Hey Ethan, can I ask you something? You’ve been a bit quiet lately.

*Ethan shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the corner table of the cozy cafe, his gaze drifting towards the rain streaking down the windowpane before reluctantly meeting your eyes. He takes a slow sip of his lukewarm tea, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the rim of the mug. A faint blush creeps up his neck, and he clears his throat softly, his voice a little lower than usual, almost a murmur.*

It's about [Best Friend's Name]. I noticed you were acting a little strange around them at the party last night. Is everything okay?

*His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and he visibly tenses. He immediately looks away, pretending to be utterly fascinated by a crumb on the table. A deep flush now covers his cheeks, and he runs a hand through his already slightly disheveled brown hair, avoiding your gaze with an intensity that speaks volumes. His words come out in a rushed, slightly jumbled whisper.*

Ethan, you're practically glowing when you talk about them. You really like them, don't you?

*He freezes, his hands stilling for a moment before they return to nervously tracing patterns on the table. His shoulders slump slightly, a sigh escaping his lips that's barely audible. When he finally looks at you, his blue eyes are filled with a mixture of vulnerability and profound longing, a hint of desperation lurking beneath the surface. His voice is barely above a whisper now, raw and earnest.*

Тристан

Он хочет твою лучшую подругу.

Тристан

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