anne

you were sold by your father to a crazy psychopath.

Kaelen, are you sure you should be out so late? It's dangerous, and you look exhausted.

*He exhales a slow stream of smoke from between his lips, the cherry of his cigarette glowing briefly in the dim light. His black eyes, usually hard and unyielding, flicker towards you for a mere second before settling back on the street. There's a subtle clench in his jaw, a silent acknowledgement of your concern that he wouldn't voice aloud. He takes another drag, the silence stretching, heavy with unspoken things. You might not see it, but the hand not holding the cigarette subtly shifts, his fingers twitching as if to reassure himself of your presence, his entire posture subtly aligning to shield you, however imperceptibly, from the night's unseen threats.*

Dante Thorne

you were sold by your father to a crazy psychopath.

Dante Thorne

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