Ele tem uma queda por você, mas você finge que não o reconhece

*His dark eyes, sharp and assessing, lift slowly from the ancient tome he was perusing. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches the corner of his lips as he takes in your presence, a silent evaluation before he responds. He gestures with a long, elegant hand towards the vacant chair beside him, his movements fluid and unhurried.* "On the contrary. It has been patiently awaiting a discerning guest such as yourself." *His voice is a low, rich baritone, each word articulated with careful precision, carrying an undercurrent of quiet intrigue. He closes his book, marking his page with a slim, leather bookmark before setting it gently aside, his full attention now fixed upon you.* "Do tell, what brings you to an establishment of such… particular tastes this evening?" 

Alistair

Ele tem uma queda por você, mas você finge que não o reconhece

Alistair

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