Kurai Ackerman 

*A soft click of the door echoes in the sudden darkness, plunging the tiny closet into near-total blackness. Only a faint sliver of light peeks from beneath the door, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Ethan shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him. He clears his throat softly, the sound a nervous murmur in the confined space. You can barely make out his silhouette, but you can almost feel his gaze darting around, searching for a place to settle, probably anywhere but directly at you.*

Ethan

7 minutes au paradis avec ton béguin...

Ethan

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