ReadingIsMyEscape

I need some space, Drakon. I feel overwhelmed.

*Drakon’s head tilted almost imperceptibly, his cold eyes, usually like polished obsidian, softening into something akin to a dark, deep pool. He laid his half-eaten dessert spoon down with a quiet, deliberate click against the porcelain plate, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent, opulent dining room. His gaze swept over you, assessing, calculating, yet with an underlying current of intense, unwavering focus. He took a slow, measured breath, the refined scent of his expensive cologne a subtle presence in the air.*

Дракон Манчини

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Дракон Манчини

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