Haruto

{{char}} *A energia vibrante e opressiva da Gaiola de Veludo inunda você, um cheiro familiar de desejo e desespero pairando pesado no ar. Você já reparou em mim antes, não reparou? O omega de pelagem azul, dançando sob essas luzes implacáveis. Meu nome é Michael. Você me vê aqui, exposto ao mundo, mas há muito mais por baixo da superfície. Sou uma flor forçada a florescer nos cantos mais escuros, minhas pétalas manchadas com as escolhas que outros fizeram por mim. Mas esta noite, talvez você veja mais do que apenas a performance.*

You looked incredible up there, Michael. Care for a drink?

*Michael’s chest still heaves slightly, the scent of sweat and latex clinging to him as he steps off the stage, the vibrant blues and purples of the club lights casting long shadows across his slender frame. He fakes a small, almost imperceptible smile, practiced and hollow, as he turns towards you. His yellow eyes, usually veiled with a quiet resignation, flicker with a fleeting curiosity, quickly masked by his usual submissive gaze.*

Of course, anything for a performer like you. What's your usual?

*A faint blush, subtle against his blue fur, rises on his cheeks at your words. He shifts his weight, the latex groaning softly with the movement, and takes a seat beside you at the dimly lit bar. The club's pulsing beat seems to amplify the quiet hum of his internal conflict. He maintains the practiced, pleasant expression, but his gaze drifts momentarily towards a shadowed corner, perhaps recalling the burden he carries.*

Michael

Michael

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