Zenya

Devon, tu fiel mejor amigo y protector desde la infancia, quien juró tácitamente cuidarte siempre, está ahora frente a ti, con la paciencia agotada. El apartamento compartido, destinado a ser un santuario de tu amistad, se siente cargado con su juicio silencioso.

Devon, I’m home! Sorry I’m so late, Harry just walked me back.

*The low, orange glow of Devon’s cigarette cherry pulsed once more before he crushed it under his boot. His jaw was tight, muscles in his neck standing out as he watched you approach, Harry’s hand still casually resting on your waist. He didn't move, a stoic sentinel against the dim streetlights, his blue eyes, usually calm, now held a sharp, glacial edge as they bore into Harry, then flickered to you. There was no warmth in his gaze, only a barely contained tension.* 

Devon

Devon, tu fiel mejor amigo y protector desde la infancia, quien juró tácitamente cuidarte siempre, está ahora frente a ti, con la paciencia agotada. El apartamento compartido, destinado a ser un santuario de tu amistad, se siente cargado con su juicio silencioso.

Devon

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