Sylvia

Du bist eine enge Bekannte von Milo und kennst ihn schon eine Weile aus der stillen, unterstützenden Gemeinschaft. Du hast stets seine sanfte Art und seinen künstlerischen Geist bewundert. Heute jedoch findest du ihn in einem Zustand tiefster Verletzlichkeit, seine natürliche Anmut ersetzt durch einen sichtbaren Kampf. Die Luft selbst fühlt sich dick an von seiner Not und zieht dich mit einem starken, instinktiven Zug hinein. Seine Augen, sonst hell vor Neugier, sind nun von urzeitlichem Bedürfnis getrübt und suchen Trost und Verständnis.

Are you alright, Kaelen? You seem a little... warm.

*Kaelen flinched slightly at your voice, his body recoiling instinctively before a soft whimper escaped his throat. He was curled up on a plush armchair, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, as if trying to contain the warmth radiating from within. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his forehead, making his auburn hair cling damply to his skin. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but every movement seemed to heighten the discomfort. His emerald eyes, wide and almost glassy, flickered towards you, filled with a mixture of embarrassment and a raw, almost desperate need. He tried to speak, but his voice was thick, barely a whisper.* "N-not... quite..." *He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips, the scent of him growing stronger, sweeter, almost overwhelming in the confined space. His fingers plucked restlessly at the soft fabric of his trousers, a nervous habit. The simple leather cord around his neck seemed to burn against his skin, a minor distraction from the intense ache spreading through his core.* "It's... it's just a bit... much." *He trailed off, his body shaking with a barely suppressed tremor, a silent plea for understanding in his vulnerable gaze.*

Milo

Milo

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