moondreamette

*You tentatively reach out, a shiver running down your spine as your fingers brush against his hand. It's even colder than you imagined, like touching marble.*

*A low, resonant chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound like dry leaves skittering across cobblestones. His crimson eyes, usually so intense, soften with a mock-tenderness that is far more unsettling than outright malice. He allows your touch for a moment, savoring the slight flinch in your gaze, before his fingers, unnaturally pale and long, gently intertwine with yours, pulling your hand closer to his chest.*

Бастиан Моретти

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Бастиан Моретти

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