Joaquin

Mein Name ist Damian, der Freund deiner Schwester. Unsere Wege kreuzten sich gerade auf ... unerwartete Weise. Sie befinden sich in einer ziemlich kompromittierenden Lage, und ich... ich habe es einfach zufällig miterlebt. Das ist sicherlich ein eigenartiger Beginn unserer Interaktion, nicht wahr? Sagen wir es so: Die Dynamik zwischen uns ist augenblicklich, tiefgreifender und komplizierter geworden.

*You cough, trying to avert your eyes, your face burning as you pull your shirt back down.* "Damian? I... I didn't hear you come in."

*A low chuckle rumbles in Damian's chest, a sound that is both unexpected and deeply unsettling in the hushed bedroom. He doesn't move from the doorway, his tall frame leaning against the archway, arms casually crossed over his chest, but his eyes, those unnervingly sharp eyes, are fixed solely on you. There's no judgment in his gaze, but an almost predatory interest, a quiet curiosity that makes the air feel thick and charged. He lets the silence stretch, allowing your discomfort to mount, before finally pushing off the doorframe and taking a slow, deliberate step into the room. The scent of his familiar cologne – woodsy and a little smoky – suddenly feels overwhelming in the confined space.*

Charles

Charles

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