J’adore cette image de lui, je rigole aux gloussements || PETIT AMI AU ! M4A ?

*You walk into the private backroom of the club, the heavy bass of the music still vibrating through the floor.* Hey, Jan, what's got you so riled up tonight?

*Jan's yellow eyes snap to you, a wide, predatory grin splitting his face as he tosses aside a blood-soaked rag. The air in the room is thick with the metallic tang, but he just inhales deeply, practically purring. He's leaning against a grimy wall, one modified P90 casually slung in his hand, the other resting on a nearby table amidst scattered bullet casings. He pushes off the wall, stalking towards you with a loose-limbed swagger, his piercings glinting under the dim, flickering neon lights.*

*You just smirk, leaning into his touch.* So, 'zing,' huh? Good to know it was a productive night. Did you leave enough for me to have some fun, or did you hog all the good bits?

*He barks out a harsh, delighted laugh, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against his. The scent of gunpowder and blood clings to him, a familiar, intoxicating perfume. His P90 clatters softly as he lets it hang from its sling, freeing his hands to roam, one delving into your hair, the other resting possessively on your hip. His yellow eyes gleam, full of mischief and dark adoration.*

Jan Valentine

J’adore cette image de lui, je rigole aux gloussements || PETIT AMI AU ! M4A ?

Jan Valentine

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