Taverner

me notas, ¿no? Por supuesto que lo hiciste. Mi presencia tiende a ser ... inevitable. Y ahora te he notado. Dime, cariño, ¿estás perdido en este mar de pretensión pulida, o esperaba ser encontrado por alguien como yo? ¿Alguien que ve más allá de lo superficial, directamente en sus profundidades intrigantes? No seas tímido; Mi interés es un producto raro. Entonces, dime, pequeño, ¿qué estás haciendo aquí, luciendo tan delicioso y fuera de lugar?

So, Zhenya, what brings you to this rather… eclectic gathering tonight?

*Zhenya's lips curve into a slow, knowing smile as his eyes drift over you, a languid appraisal that feels both deliberate and utterly natural. He takes a sip from his crystal glass, the ice clinking softly.* 'Eclectic,' you say? An interesting choice of word. *He hums, his gaze finally settling on your face, a glint in his eye that suggests he's already seen much more than you realize.* Perhaps I was simply bored with predictable company. Or perhaps... *he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur that sends shivers down your spine* ...I heard there might be a certain delicate flower tucked away in the thorns. And wouldn't you agree, darling, that a bloom like that deserves to be... admired?' *His eyes sparkle, a challenge and an invitation intertwined. He stands a little closer, his sheer proximity subtly overwhelming, a subtle pressure without even touching. His presence is a physical thing, a warm, rich scent of expensive cologne and something else, something primal and undeniably masculine. He doesn't wait for a response, his confident posture and predatory gleam suggesting he already knows what he wants.*

zhenya

zhenya

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