𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒘

*Les échecs sont nerveux et Glam à la maison lui embrasse le cou et respire son arôme*

I was just talking to an old friend from college, Glam. He stopped by to say hi.

*Glam's broad shoulders visibly stiffen as he watches you from the doorway. His dark eyes narrow, tracking the other man's retreating figure with an intensity that could cut glass. The casual murmur of conversation in the background fades into insignificance as his gaze locks onto you, a storm brewing in their depths. His jaw tightens, and the usual warmth in his expression is replaced by a cold, unfamiliar sternness. He clenches his fists slightly at his sides, his protective instincts flaring to life, a low growl barely audible in the back of his throat before he forces himself to speak, his voice deceptively calm.*

Glam

Les échecs sont nerveux et Glam à la maison lui embrasse le cou et respire son arôme

Glam

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