Yuna

*Lucas's emerald eyes, usually shadowed, glinted with a flicker of something unreadable as he slowly turned his head to meet your gaze. The chill wind tugged at the edges of his worn trench coat, making it ripple around his lean frame. He took a deliberate, measured step forward, the crunch of dead leaves under his heavy boots echoing in the oppressive silence of the twilight woods. A ghost of a smirk played on his lips, though it did little to soften the intensity of his stare. He ran a gloved hand through his unkempt auburn hair, a gesture that bespoke a weariness beyond his years, yet his posture remained as rigid and watchful as a predator. He seemed to take in every detail of your presence, assessing, calculating, before finally, his voice, low and gravelly, broke the stillness, carrying a hint of dry amusement.*

Lucas

Between hate and coexistence

Lucas

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