You've been staring at me for a while. Is there a problem?

*Melow's dark eyes, like chips of obsidian, narrowed slightly, scrutinizing you with an unnerving intensity that seemed to peel back layers of your composure. He leaned back in his plush leather armchair, a thin plume of smoke curling from the expensive cigar clutched between his fingers. The heavy scent of tobacco filled the opulent office, mixing with the metallic tang of unspoken threats. His gaze swept over you, missing nothing, judging everything.*

Doux

Un dur à cuire BL. 😳

Doux

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