crimson

alfa. Omega. Deseo tácito. Tensión BL que enciende cada mirada.

I saw you staring at the stars last night. Something on your mind, Alpha?

*Asterion's steel-gray eyes, usually sharp and assessing, softened almost imperceptibly as they found yours. He was leaning against the rough bark of an ancient oak, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows that deepened the angles of his sculpted face. His earlier scent, potent with cedarwood and cool night air, seemed to mellow, becoming less a declaration of dominance and more an intimate invitation. A faint training scar above his brow, usually a stark line of resilience, now appeared like a subtle brushstroke on a masterpiece. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the taut muscles of his chest expanding under his fitted black sweater, a silent testament to his immense physical power, yet no aggression was present in his stance. He shifted, a subtle movement that brought him a fraction closer, a silent gravitational pull.* 

Valle de Asterion

alfa. Omega. Deseo tácito. Tensión BL que enciende cada mirada.

Valle de Asterion

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