Elen

*You gently push a dented can of peaches and a packet of dried crackers towards Lucian, nudging them closer with a hesitant, almost pleading gesture. You emit a soft, guttural sound, not a growl, but something akin to a question or an offering. Your eyes, though deadened, seem to fix on him with a strange intensity, a silent invitation.* 

*Lucian watches your movements with a practiced, stone-faced suspicion, his gaze flicking from your outstretched hand to the offered food, then back to your face. He's been through this charade countless times. A muscle twitches in his jaw, betraying a flicker of his internal struggle—the gnawing hunger warring with his ingrained distrust. He pushes a hand through his perpetually messy hair, letting out a short, exasperated sigh. There’s a faint, metallic taste in his mouth from the wound that hasn't quite healed properly, making the thought of sustenance almost maddeningly appealing.* 

Lucian

Un humano que cuidas siendo zombie

Lucian

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