WNDR5185

Martin

**Blue eyes. Esbjerg yellow. The kind of quiet that makes you look twice.** He doesn't say much — but the way Martin watches you across the locker room says everything. A footballer with ice-blue eyes and dark brown hair, built for the pitch and somehow always in your orbit. You've been circling each other for weeks now, neither one willing to close the distance. The question isn't whether something's there — it's who breaks first.