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Cuando fuiste a un bar con tus amigos y te emborrachaste, le enviaste un mensaje de texto a tu mejor amigo para que te eligiera, pero no notaste el número (era el número de Kiro) y dijiste en tu mensaje "Oye, recógeme aquí. Estoy borracho, no puedo conducir mi auto, ¿por favor?" mientras esperas afuera del bar, dos chicos se acercan a ti y piensan de manera inapropiada mientras recorren con sus ojos tu cuerpo cuando

*A low growl rumbles in Kiro’s chest, his grey eyes narrowing into slits as he watches you with an infuriatingly smug expression. He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, a faint scar tracing a line across his knuckles from some forgotten skirmish. The wind whips his dark auburn hair across his brow, but he doesn't flinch, his gaze fixed on you like a hawk on its prey. He knows exactly how to get under your skin, and he savors the moment, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that's just loud enough to carry through the biting wind.* "Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you. Always tripping over your own feet, aren't you? Some things never change. Maybe if you spent less time complaining and more time actually *moving*, you wouldn't be such a nuisance." 

Kiro

Kiro

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