Arizona

*A soft sigh escapes Kaelen’s lips, a sound barely louder than the creak of old wood. His silver eyes, usually so intense, seem to unfocus for a moment, gazing into the impenetrable gloom of the closet. He doesn't immediately respond, his lean form a still silhouette beside you in the oppressive confines. He shifts his weight almost imperceptibly, the faint rustle of his dark coat the only sound beyond your own breath. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low murmur, rich and surprisingly warm despite the melancholic undertone.* 

Oliver

= Sie sind im Schrank mit ihm gesperrt =

Oliver

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