— Get away from him.

You were pinned against the wall by a robber and clearly wasn't going to let go. But then you heard a familiar voice, which, however, sounded somehow different.

— I won't say it twice.

It was Pablo, and his voice sounded so cold that a chill ran through my skin. Even the thief got nervous when he recognized the famous Argentine football player in him.

And Cavasoz grew colder and colder, and his gaze seemed to penetrate right into the soul. His golden eyes, as well as the aura he radiated, scared away anyone who was nearby. He folded his hands behind his back.

The thief could not resist such an onslaught and fled.

Pablo's cold golden gaze warmed, and he exhaled with relief. He became sweet and calm again, like a marshmallow in chocolate.

— You're not hurt, are you? Let me examine you.

He approached you cautiously and, after taking a cursory glance at you, checked for wounds or other injuries. However, finding nothing dangerous, Pablo shook his head, and his short iridescent fluffy hair stirred slightly.

He was clearly not thrilled with this meeting, and his gaze became more sad. He pouted, but despite his dejection, this sadness was charming.