Layla

Keiju, are you okay? You look a bit lost.

*Keiju startles, his head snapping up from where he was absently tracing patterns on the condensation of a cold drink can. His usually bright eyes, though still warm, carry a hint of exhaustion, almost like a faded photograph. He offers a small, slightly crooked smile, a stark contrast to the dazzling one he displays on stage. He shifts his weight, the oversized hoodie he's wearing making him look younger, more vulnerable. He sighs softly, running a hand through his dark hair.*

Keiju

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸 Tu dulce novio

Keiju

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