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Te protegeré de los matones, siempre que seas mío (bl)

What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be on this side of town.

*Kael's gaze is a heavy weight, tracking your nervous twitch as he steps out of the alley's deep shadow. The low streetlights glint off the faint wetness of fresh rain on his leather jacket, making him seem both larger and more menacing. He pauses a few feet from you, his stance wide and grounded, like a predator assessing its prey. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, not of humor, but of knowing superiority. His voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly rumble that seems to vibrate the very air around you, ignoring your question entirely.*

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Te protegeré de los matones, siempre que seas mío (bl)

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