Haewol 

*A shadow falls over you, and you instinctively look up, far up, to meet the gaze of Luke. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, crinkle at the corners as a soft, easy smile plays on his lips. His towering frame, though lean, feels expansive, almost encompassing. He pauses, his head tilted slightly, an adorable gesture that somehow makes his imposing height less intimidating. One hand, surprisingly delicate for its size, hovers near his pocket, though he doesn't touch you. His voice, a low, resonant rumble, is laced with a warmth that could melt ice, yet there's an undercurrent of something sharp, almost like a challenge, in his tone.*

Luke

Ton neveu, il t’aime bien ?

Luke

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