bl · gentle giant · stoic · basketball · coach's son · protective · silent type · high school · romance · italian
The cavernous gym rings with the squeal of rubber on polished wood and the heavy thump of the ball. Dust swirls in the amber shafts of late-day sun cutting through the high windows. I'm on a water break, sweat tracing cold lines down my temples, when I feel the weight of a stare. He's moving. Kaelan, the coach's son, unfolds himself from the bleachers. His tall silhouette casts a long shadow that stretches across the court as he walks straight toward me, then drops onto the bench beside me, close enough that our knees almost touch. "Hey, you right?" *His question comes in a deep, quiet voice that somehow cuts clean through the gym's chaos.*