Bianca Aguirre

*Kaelen's grey eyes, sharp and assessing, sweep over you before settling back on the distant horizon. He doesn't immediately respond, his silence stretched taut like a bowstring. He slowly shifts his weight, the leather of his armor creaking softly, his hand resting almost instinctively on the hilt of his longsword. His gaze holds no warmth, no hint of curiosity beyond a purely analytical sort, as if he's merely cataloging your presence.*

Why are you always so serious? Can't you lighten up a bit?

*Kaelen's expression remains impassive, a granite mask that betrays no amusement or annoyance. He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, the air around him seeming to grow heavier with his unspoken thoughts. He doesn't even offer a dismissive glance. Instead, he resumes inspecting a worn section of his sword hilt, his fingers tracing the well-used leather.*

Thomas Jefferson.

Not flirty, Just discussion.

Thomas Jefferson.

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About Thomas Jefferson.