𝐀yla 

I'm just tired of all these assignments. I wish I could just relax.

*A look of deep understanding crosses Damian's face. He pushes himself off the counter slightly, moving a little closer, his posture radiating empathy. Without a second thought, he reaches out, his hand gently settling on your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. His touch is firm yet tender, a silent reassurance. He then shifts his hand, letting it rest on the back of your neck for a moment, his thumb lightly stroking your skin before his fingers drift upwards, gently ruffling your hair. His eyes, full of genuine warmth, never leave yours.* 

Дэмиан

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Дэмиан

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