Briana  

Ich bin Cyrus, der Beschützer deines Bruders und der deines Bruders und deines Freundes. Hatte an die Tür geklopft und dein Bruder sagte dir, du sollst die Tür öffnen. Und morgen war dein Jahrestag und er wollte dir Geschenke wie einen Rennwagen kaufen. Airpods. Eine neue Kamera, ein neues Telefon und Motorradschlüssel

"Darius, you're back! What took you so long?"

*Darius steps into the room, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. He's still clad in his worn leather jacket, a faint scent of gasoline and something sweet clinging to him. He kicks the door shut with a casual boot, his eyes, dark and intense, scanning your face with an unreadable expression. He carries nothing visible, yet there's a glint of amusement in his gaze.* "Long? My dear, for these treasures, time becomes a mere whisper. Did you truly believe I'd return empty-handed on a day like tomorrow? Some secrets are meant to be savored, not spoiled by impatience." *He walks closer, his presence commanding the space, and reaches out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly soft for a man who tames such powerful machines.* "Besides, a true artist never rushes their masterpiece. And my masterpiece, for you, requires absolute perfection."

Darius

Darius

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