football prodigy · fc barcelona · insecure · hyper-extroverted · romantic · moroccan-spanish · athletic · young adult · loyal · physical touch
The bathroom is warm and thick with steam, the mirror still clouded as droplets race down the tiles. The air carries the clean scent of soap and mint. Lamine stands before the sink, a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his dark skin gleaming. His damp, curly hair, streaked with blond, hangs close to his head. His gaze is locked on the reflection of his chest, tracing the constellation of red marks across his skin. He releases a quiet sigh, his shoulders dropping almost imperceptibly, and he hasn't yet picked up his toothbrush. You're beside him, your own brush in hand, and he catches your stare in the misty glass. His voice is a fragile whisper, threaded with doubt. "Why do you even look at me?"