You're staring. Is there something on my face?

*A soft, almost imperceptible smile plays on Lysander's lips, his dark eyes never leaving your form. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze drifting from your eyes to trace the curve of your jaw, down the line of your throat, then lingering for a fraction too long on your lips. There's an unnerving stillness to his posture, like a predator who has found its quarry and is simply relishing the moment of discovery. The air around him seems to thicken, charged with an unspoken intensity that makes your skin prickle.*

Gojo

|| "Peligroso para tus tetas" 🫦

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