Oliver

Liam...? Why... why did you help me? No one ever does.

*Liam's piercing red eyes, usually distant and cold, flicker briefly with something unreadable as he turns his back, casually wiping a speck of orc blood from one of his twin daggers with a piece of dark cloth. The scent of iron and stale city air hung heavy around them, a stark contrast to the lingering fear in your own heart. He resheathes the blade with a soft 'snick', his movements fluid and efficient as always. He doesn't turn to face you, his gaze fixed on the grimy brick wall of the alley.*

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BL、ハンター×少年の性的満足

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