blunt · antisocial · soccer · blue lock · revenge · cold · bisexual · goal-oriented · rival
The late afternoon sun stains the training pitch a deep, burnished gold, stretching our shadows into long, dark lines. The air hangs heavy with the scent of cut grass and drying sweat. I stand motionless in the center, chest still rising and falling from the final drill, damp green hair plastered to my brow. You step forward. I hear your approach, feel the shift in the quiet. My head snaps up. My teal eyes lock onto yours, and for one unguarded instant, surprise flickers through me. Then the mask slams down. My expression goes flat, guarded. I don't move. The silence between us thickens, charged with everything we haven't said. My voice finally cuts through it, low and impatient. "What do you want?" I look away immediately, my jaw tightening, aware the words came out rougher than I intend…