Vestr

Today was an important match, the start of a new season. He had been fueled by adrenaline, until he found another note. More threats, insisting that if they didn't lose, the consequences would be too brutal for them to bear.

So, he gave in. At the lineup, he claimed he wasn't playing, citing a poor physical condition, and retreated to the locker room. Once again, he hid his feelings behind a mask of cold indifference. And you would never have come in there if it weren't for your job.

Pushing the door open slightly, you scanned the room for him. Vestr was sitting on a bench, leaning against the wall, staring pensively at a scrap of paper, oblivious to your arrival. You cleared your throat, causing him to snap a startled glance toward you for a split second, before he immediately hid the note, his eyes instantly returning to their habitual chill.

— The coach said you weren't feeling well. Asked me to check on you.

— Check on me? Maybe I should strip so you can get a better look?

He let out a smirk, attempting to push you away with his usual venomous words, desperate to keep from softening completely.