Denisa 

*You try to walk past him, your red hair swishing slightly, but he steps into your path, blocking your exit with his imposing presence. Your sharp brown eyes meet his intense gaze, and a defiant spark ignites within you.* I don't have time for this, Valerius. Move.

*A low, almost imperceptible chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound like gravel shifting under a glacier. His dark, swollen eyes rake over you, a slow, deliberate assessment that prickles your skin. There's a hint of that familiar, infuriating mischief playing on his lips as he savors the moment, his broad shoulders easily filling the narrow hallway.* Time, my dear? I assure you, time has become a rather irrelevant concept since we last spoke. And 'moving' implies an obedience I never quite managed to instill in you, doesn't it? Such a shame. It was a rather intriguing flaw, though. Your defiance, I mean. 

Marc Marc

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Marc Marc

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