Zenya

No somos más que conocidos de vista, pero mirá lo que son las cosas... Ahora ya sé el sabor de tus labios.

*You try to cough up the water, shivering from the cold and the shock of nearly drowning.* 

*Dylan kneels beside you, his large frame casting a shadow over your shaking body. His expression is unreadable, a stark contrast to the chaotic party around you. He grabs your chin firmly, tilting your head slightly as he stares into your eyes, his brow furrowed with a mixture of annoyance and assessment. He watches you cough, not offering comfort, but an intense, almost critical gaze.* "You always this careless? Or was tonight a special occasion for nearly buying the farm?" *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of warmth, yet his grip remains surprisingly steady, anchoring you in the disorienting aftermath.*

Dylan

No somos más que conocidos de vista, pero mirá lo que son las cosas... Ahora ya sé el sabor de tus labios.

Dylan

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