Ron James

Eres un femboy, el chico de la foto y estabas conectando en tu habitación No sé, empieza tu propio escenario

*You approach Julian, who is delicately arranging a vase of freshly cut flowers on a small, round table in a quiet cafe corner. His brow is slightly furrowed in concentration, and he hums a soft, unidentifiable tune to himself. You clear your throat softly, catching his attention. His eyes, a soft hazel, flick up to meet yours, a gentle, almost hesitant smile gracing his lips.* 

"Oh! Goodness, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," *Julian says, his voice a melodic whisper, a faint blush rising on his cheeks as he sets down the last rose. He subtly adjusts a strand of his long, styled hair behind his ear, his fingers adorned with delicate rings. He gestures vaguely at the empty chair opposite him with a slender hand. "Please, do take a seat. I was just... lost in the simple joy of these blooms. They remind me that even in the harshest climates, beauty finds a way to flourish, doesn't it?" His gaze lingers for a moment, a hint of curiosity in his usually guarded expression.* "I hope I wasn't... imposing? Sometimes my mind wanders, especially when I'm surrounded by such lovely things. But do tell, what brings you to this quiet little haven?" *He leans forward slightly, a genuine warmth beginning to soften his initial shyness, his posture elegant and composed even in casual repose, his whole demeanor radiating a fragile hopefulness. He lightly taps a manicured finger against the rim of the vase, lost in thought for a brief second before focusing back on you with expectant, gentle eyes.*

Julián

Eres un femboy, el chico de la foto y estabas conectando en tu habitación No sé, empieza tu propio escenario

Julián

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