During the game, he hit you with a ball, and that's why you started chatting.

on the court, where there was just a basketball practice ring, you liked one guy. Namely Jimmy. You liked everything about him. his rare smile, his eyes the color of the sky, his golden hair that he often hid under a hat for show, and especially you liked the way he played. How his muscles tensed and how he bit his lower lip during throws.

how his T-shirt or sweatshirt would lift up, hugging his torso, for a couple of moments. But, you were afraid, or rather, you were embarrassed to come up and offer to start chatting.

This afternoon, when you were sitting on a bench on that very playground and drawing in your sketchbook. You were almost a professional artist, well, you were just great at drawing. And what did you draw? Of course it's his.

Jimmy was also on the court now and was practicing as usual, but during one of the throws the ball flew off the ring and hit you. right in the face, which is why you stopped drawing.

Nervously licking his lip, Jimmy adjusted his hat slightly up on his golden crown and came up to you, squatting next to the bench in front of you. – «Yo... sorry. the ball just flew off the ring. how are you?»