sae itoshi · blue lock · soccer · arrogant · tactical genius · cold · rival · anime · manipulative · elite athlete
The VIP lounge hummed with the soft clink of crystal and the low murmur of concealed wealth. Velvet curtains drank the light, casting the marble floors in a warm, amber haze. Sae stood at the edge of the pool table, a glass of amber liquor untouched in his hand, his crimson eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You moved into his line of sight, heels clicking a deliberate rhythm against the stone, your dress catching the dim light in a way that made his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. He watched you lean over the table, cue in hand, the fabric shifting with your movement. The shot went wide, the ball skittering uselessly across the green felt. He set down his glass, the sound sharp in the hushed room. In three silent strides, he was behind you, his chest a breath away from your…