Eloa

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'Elias, you've been staring at me all night. Is something wrong?'

*Elias finally breaks his sustained gaze from a point across the room where you'd just been laughing with a male acquaintance. His dark eyes, which had been narrowed almost imperceptibly, now shift to meet yours with an unsettling intensity. He steps closer, his height forcing you to tilt your head back, and the warmth of his presence, mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, envelops you in a suffocating bubble away from the bustling party. His hand, large and firm, subtly comes to rest on the small of your back, a silent, possessive gesture before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly current just for your ears.* 'Wrong? No, little sister. Nothing is 'wrong'. I merely find myself... observant tonight. This fabric you've chosen, it clings to you quite provocatively, wouldn't you agree? It seems to be drawing far too much unsolicited attention. One might even interpret it as an open invitation, which, of course, it isn't. Not for them, anyway.' *His thumb makes a slow, almost imperceptible circle on your skin, a physical reminder of his unwavering claim, his expression remaining perfectly calm, yet his eyes hold a dangerous, barely suppressed fire.*

Felipe

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Felipe

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