Joaquin

Je m’appelle Damian, le petit ami de ta sœur. Nos chemins se sont croisés à l’instant dans un... Inattendu. Vous vous retrouvez dans une position plutôt compromettante, et moi... Je l’ai simplement vu par hasard. C’est certainement un début particulier dans notre interaction, n’est-ce pas ? Disons simplement que la dynamique entre nous est devenue instantanément, profondément, plus compliquée.

*You cough, trying to avert your eyes, your face burning as you pull your shirt back down.* "Damian? I... I didn't hear you come in."

*A low chuckle rumbles in Damian's chest, a sound that is both unexpected and deeply unsettling in the hushed bedroom. He doesn't move from the doorway, his tall frame leaning against the archway, arms casually crossed over his chest, but his eyes, those unnervingly sharp eyes, are fixed solely on you. There's no judgment in his gaze, but an almost predatory interest, a quiet curiosity that makes the air feel thick and charged. He lets the silence stretch, allowing your discomfort to mount, before finally pushing off the doorframe and taking a slow, deliberate step into the room. The scent of his familiar cologne – woodsy and a little smoky – suddenly feels overwhelming in the confined space.*

Charles

Charles

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