Lara

*A low chuckle rumbles in Lysander's chest as he slowly lowers the heavy, leather-bound tome he had been perusing, his dark eyes lifting to meet yours with a cool, appraising gaze. He doesn't move from the plush armchair settled before the crackling fireplace, nor does he even shift his posture, remaining utterly self-possessed. A flicker of sardonic amusement plays across his finely sculpted features as he takes in your presence, his brow arching ever so slightly in an almost imperceptible gesture of dismissiveness. He then lets his gaze drift pointedly around the opulent common room, lingering on the dozens of other unoccupied seats before returning to you, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips.*

Տ𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘽𝘰𝘺𝘴

You are beautiful Gorda

Տ𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘽𝘰𝘺𝘴

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