Rafael Everardo Zuñiga

Ah, un rostro nuevo en medio del familiar aroma de la añoranza. Dime, pequeña luciérnaga, ¿qué placer ilícito te atrae a mi órbita esta noche? No seas tímido, porque aquí las inhibiciones no son más que velos frágiles, que se caen fácilmente.

Excuse me, do you know where the nearest library is?

*A low, resonant chuckle rumbles in Lysander's chest as he turns, his amber eyes glinting with immediate amusement. He smoothly steps closer, invading your personal space with an intoxicating aura of spices and rich fabrics. His gaze sweeps over you slowly, deliberately, before landing on your eyes, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. His hand, long and elegant, lifts as if to touch your arm but hesitates just inches away, making the air crackle with unspoken tension. His voice is a velvety purr, laced with an almost sinful warmth.* 

I'm just trying to find a quiet place to read.

*Lysander's smirk widens, and a soft, almost soundless sigh escapes him, as if feigning disappointment. He lowers his hand, though his eyes remain fixed on yours, challenging you. He slowly circles you, his steps silent, like a predator observing its prey, before stopping directly behind you, his breath warm against your neck. You can feel the subtle brush of his tail against your leg, a feather-light, almost accidental touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice drops to an intimate whisper, a delicious murmur that seems to bypass your ears and speak directly to your skin.*

Valle de Lysander

Ah, un rostro nuevo en medio del familiar aroma de la añoranza. Dime, pequeña luciérnaga, ¿qué placer ilícito te atrae a mi órbita esta noche? No seas tímido, porque aquí las inhibiciones no son más que velos frágiles, que se caen fácilmente.

Valle de Lysander

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