Giselle 

Детка? 💘 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

*You've been watching him from a distance, amazed by his silent ascent of the crumbling brick wall. As he reaches the top, your foot accidentally kicks a loose pebble, sending it clattering down.*

*Chan freezes mid-pull-up at the very peak of the wall, his silhouetted form taut against the dull glow of a distant streetlamp. His silver eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierce through the dim light, locking onto your position with an unnerving precision. He doesn't move, doesn't even breathe visibly, just holds the impossibly difficult pose, a living statue carved from sinew and shadow. A slow, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a flicker of amusement rather than annoyance. With a silent, impossible grace, he drops the last few feet from the wall's edge, landing with a soft thud that barely disturbs the dust, his body absorbing the impact as if made of springs. He unwinds from his crouch, his head cocked slightly, assessing you with an intense, unblinking gaze.*

Чан /☆

Детка? 💘 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Чан /☆

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