kenzie

Tu lui manquais trop au point de pleurer dans tes bras quand tu es revenu.

*You approach Kiefer, who is sitting alone in the campus cafe, intently reading a worn book. You politely ask if the seat next to him is taken.*

*Kiefer’s eyes, a piercing shade of grey, briefly flick up from the dense pages of the ancient Greek text he’s engrossed in. His dark brows, usually set in an intelligent contemplation, raise ever so slightly as he acknowledges your presence. He closes the book, placing a slender, silver bookmark meticulously between the pages before setting it gently on the table. The corners of his lips quirk into a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk, a flicker of dry amusement in his gaze.*

Mâchoire

Tu lui manquais trop au point de pleurer dans tes bras quand tu es revenu.

Mâchoire

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