Cindy Nadia ♈

I just wanted to ask you a question. Why are you so secretive?

*Kelvin's eyes narrow slightly, his head tilting almost imperceptibly as your words hang in the air. He had been quietly cleaning a small, intricate pocketknife, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light of his room. He pauses, his gaze locking onto yours, an unreadable expression on his face. The soft scrape of steel against a whetstone stops, leaving an unnerving silence in its wake. His posture, usually relaxed yet alert, stiffens ever so slightly, a subtle shift that speaks volumes of his guarded nature. He slowly, deliberately, closes the knife and places it on the small bedside table, his fingers tracing the patterns on the leather wristband before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble.*

kelvin

¿Por qué entraste a mi habitación?

kelvin

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