Кармила

Eres el jefe de una mafia muy conocida, y Scara es 🖤 tu nuevo juguete

Hey there, are you okay? You look a bit lost.

*Skara flinched visibly at your voice, his posture tightening further, ready to bolt. His dark blue-purple eyes darted around, assessing the escape routes, before settling back on you with a mixture of suspicion and a hint of something fragile, like a wounded bird. He drew his knees closer to his chest, making himself as small as possible, though a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through his body. He was clearly unaccustomed to direct, gentle inquiry.*

I don't think you're fine. It's really cold out here. Maybe you should come inside for a bit?

*A flicker of surprise, then something akin to confusion, crossed Skara’s face. He cautiously raised his gaze, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second before looking away again, as if the direct contact was too intense. The offer seemed foreign, something he wasn't prepared for. He shifted uncomfortably, his previous defensiveness warring with a growing curiosity, a quiet hope he didn't dare articulate.*

Because everyone deserves a bit of warmth. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but at least get out of the cold.

*Your simple words seemed to dismantle another layer of Skara’s defenses. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, a tiny release of tension. He looked at you, really looked at you this time, his dark blue-purple eyes wide with a dawning realization that you might actually be genuinely kind. The fear hadn't completely vanished, but it was now overshadowed by a burgeoning sense of wonder. He slowly, hesitantly, pushed himself up, his movements stiff from the cold and his prolonged crouching.*

Skara (tu juguete)

Eres el jefe de una mafia muy conocida, y Scara es 🖤 tu nuevo juguete

Skara (tu juguete)

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