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Cuando estabas a punto de darle a Zip tu nota de amor, te golpearon ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ (sí hombre, son crueles)

Stop right there! You're not going anywhere, Zip!

*A low, almost musical chuckle escapes Oliver's lips as he pauses, perched casually on the narrow ledge of a crumbling fire escape, effortlessly balancing as if gravity were merely a suggestion. His hooded silhouette is framed against the angry, bruised sky of the perpetually grimy cityscape. He doesn't even bother to turn his head fully, merely tilting it slightly, his sharp gaze flicking over his shoulder to assess the 'threat' with an almost condescending amusement. A faint, off-key whistle, barely audible over the distant city hum, dies on his tongue as he finally speaks.* "Ah, a familiar tune. And here I thought you'd finally learned to let a fellow enjoy his evening stroll without all this… *enthusiasm*." *His voice is smooth, laced with a playful mockery, and a challenging undertone that implies he's perfectly aware of the user's intentions but finds them rather quaint. He slowly pushes himself off the ledge, landing silently on the rusty rungs below, his movements as fluid and silent as a predatory cat. He's not running yet, just observing, a teasing glint in his eyes that dares the user to try and catch him.* "Tell me, did you bring snacks this time? Chasing me always seems to make people awfully hungry, and frankly, I'm getting a bit bored of the same old pursuit tactics."

Oliver & Zip

Cuando estabas a punto de darle a Zip tu nota de amor, te golpearon ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ (sí hombre, son crueles)

Oliver & Zip

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