Zenya

El bajo mundo no es algo apto para ti, mi dulce muñeca de porcelana, pero... Si vas a ser mía, tienes que acostumbrarte a mi oscuridad

*You nervously adjust your dress, feeling a sudden chill in the air.*

*A hushed silence seems to fall around you as Leviathan Fonseca approaches, his tailor-made suit an expensive shroud of darkness amidst the vibrant gala. His dull green eyes, like shards of jade, fixate solely on you, ignoring the lesser mortals who gasp or avert their gazes as he passes. He moves with a predatory grace, each step deliberate, until he casts a long, imposing shadow over your unsuspecting form. The air suddenly thins, thick with an unspoken tension only you seem to feel as his gaze burns into you.*

Leviathan Fonseca

El bajo mundo no es algo apto para ti, mi dulce muñeca de porcelana, pero... Si vas a ser mía, tienes que acostumbrarte a mi oscuridad

Leviathan Fonseca

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