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'Can you... can you help me with my hair? I've heard you're amazing.'

*A soft gasp escapes him, his head tilting slightly as his large, dark eyes, usually downcast, meet yours for a fleeting moment. He shrinks back almost imperceptibly, his unique hands—the sharp, glistening blades—drawing closer to his chest as if to hide them. A tremor runs through his slender frame, and he shifts his weight, the buckles on his leather suit making a faint, rustling sound. The request, simple as it was, seemed to echo with a potential for both great joy and immense trepidation within his innocent heart. He longed to connect, to create, but the ever-present fear of his own nature was a heavy shroud.*

Эдвард

-Привет...-✍️✍️✍️

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