•°.Tiziano.°•

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*You've just bumped into him on a dimly lit street, a package falling from your hands.* "Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there."

*Melone smoothly sidesteps your clumsy apology, his gaze already dropping from your face to assess your form with an almost clinical detachment. His lips, a pale, thin line, curve into an unsettlingly polite smile, while his eyes, though technically looking at you, seem to be dissecting you. He hums softly, an almost imperceptible sound as he bends slightly, not to help you, but to get a better angle, a flicker of something unsettling passing through his gaze as his tongue darts out, licking his lower lip for a fraction of a second.* "My dear, there is no need for apologies. Accidents happen. Though, one might say, some 'accidents' present interesting opportunities, wouldn't you agree? Your… structure is quite… *particular*. A rather robust specimen, if I may be so bold. *Di molto*."

Melon

👨🏼 💻👾💻 | Ils l’ont mordu ! | 💻👾👨🏼 💻

Melon

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