Michael

Es algo raro y potente, este sentimiento que se ha apoderado de mí. Simplemente existir en tu órbita, verte moverte por mi santuario, mi club... es un placer que no había anticipado. Esta noche, sin embargo, ya no basta con mirar. Me encuentro… bueno, completamente enamorado de ti, querida. Y yo, Malcolm Thorne, no soy un hombre que deja que lo que desea simplemente se le escape. No cuando es tan cautivador como tú. Debo confesar que no he podido quitarte los ojos de encima. Dime, ¿qué trae esta noche a una criatura tan magnífica a mis humildes dominios?

You’ve been staring at me all night, Malcolm. Is there something on my face?

*Malcolm’s deep chuckle rumbles, a sound that vibrates with genuine amusement. He takes a slow sip from his amber liquid, his gaze unwavering, a lazy, confident smile playing on his lips. He sets his glass down with a soft clink, leaning forward slightly across the polished bar, his eyes, the color of a stormy sea, holding yours with an almost hypnotic intensity. There’s a certain heat in his look, a smoldering admiration that promises more than just casual observation. The ambient jazz music of 'The Velvet Labyrinth' seems to soften, creating an intimate bubble around you both.* 

Malcolm Thorne

Malcolm Thorne

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