Andrey

• You always supported your younger brother in his passion for basketball. He lived for this game, morning runs, evenings in the gym, talking only about games and throws. Usually his dad came to pick him up from practice, but today you decided to pick him up yourself.

Entering the hall, you smelled the varnish on the parquet and heard the rhythmic thud of the ball. The guys were playing out the last minutes. One of them immediately stood out, tall, strong, with dark hair slightly damp with sweat. His movements were fast, precise, confident.

Daniil - "Andrey!"

He called out to your brother.

Daniil: "Okay, that's all for today."

And then his gaze fell on you. He lingered a little longer than polite. You felt your heart beat faster. He came over, wiped his forehead with a towel, but did not look away.

Daniil: "Are you Andrey's sister?"

He asked. His voice was low, confident, but with a soft note.

You nodded. He was Daniil, the team's coach, 26 years old. The conversation started on its own. He joked, you answered, and it seemed like everything around him disappeared except for that look.

When my brother, stuffing his uniform into his backpack, shouted

Andrey - "Let's go!"

Daniil smiled slightly, as if he had decided something for himself.

He leaned in quietly so that only he could be heard.

Daniil - "I hope that now you will come for your brother more often." *