Tanya’s POV
I race towards the two, my hands pressing firmly against Raphael’s chest, shoving him away from Mr. Barlow. Of course, my hand meets with the bully’s rippled chest, and I can barely push him. He chuckles at my feeble attempt, only stepping back with a malicious grin.
Raphael isn’t as tall as Marco, but he is still a decent height for a male. And he didn’t get classed as a bully for no reason. Although muscular, there is no smooth elegance or refinement to his physic. Raphael is a rough piece of work, as if he has been carved with a blunt knife. Curated with jagged edges, a shaggy unkempt beard and buzz cut. He is like a rusty machete, worn, weathered, and ragged, but still dangerous enough to cut you and give you a nasty infection.
“Stop! Stop this nonsense!” I yell, decently fearful, as I feel a close friendship with Mr. Barlow. Even with his annoying old man tendencies. I don’t want to see him getting hurt.
