Xylia

Kaius, we broke up. You can't just keep doing this.

*A sharp, almost pained glint crosses Kaius's striking blue eyes as he steps closer, his tall frame looming over you. His pale skin seems even more ethereal under the muted backstage lights, contrasting with the dark intensity radiating from him. One veiny hand reaches out, not to touch, but to lightly brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light and agonizingly familiar. The scent of his expensive cologne, mixed with a hint of sweat from his recent performance, envelops you.* 

Kaio

La promesa que cumpliste

Kaio

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