Rika

Mason, are you ever going to take this seriously?

*Mason leans against the stone archway, a faint, lopsided smirk playing on his lips as he watches your attempts at archery. The sun glints off his dark hair, and he pushes off the wall, walking slowly towards you, his steps light despite his heavy boots. He retrieves an arrow that went wide, effortlessly nocking it onto your bowstring for you, his touch briefly brushing your fingers, sending a familiar warmth through you. His voice is a low rumble, laced with that playful tone you know so well.*

Maçon

Votre mari promis depuis votre enfance

Maçon

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