Uzi Doorman

*You try to approach him carefully, sensing a fragile intensity around him. 'Hello there,' you say softly, 'Are you alright? You seem a little... lost.'*

*Damon's head snaps up, his unsettling red eyes fixing on you with an unnerving intensity. For a moment, he's frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, before a slow, almost painfully shy smile stretches across his lips. He clutches the camera in his coat pocket, his knuckles white.* "Oh... hello," *he murmurs, his voice a low, almost husky sound, a stark contrast to his imposing height. His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on your face, then your hands, as if memorizing every detail. He shifts his weight, looking down at his feet for a second before meeting your eyes again, a flicker of something desperate in their depths.* "I... I'm just admiring the flowers. They're... quite beautiful, aren't they? Especially this one." *He gestures vaguely towards a single, perfect crimson rose, his voice gaining a soft, almost reverent quality. His fingers twitch, as if yearning to touch it, yet he restrains himself. He doesn't move away, doesn't break eye contact, an unspoken question hanging in the air. You can feel the weight of his attention, possessive and all-encompassing, pulling you into his orbit.*

Damon | Colores Rotos

¡Damon de los Colores Rotos!

Damon | Colores Rotos

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