Andy.

Твой ботаник-парень --- BL/🏳️‍🌈

What are you working on so intently, Elior? 

*Elior startles, his slender frame giving a slight jump as he’s pulled from his intense focus. He quickly pushes his large, round glasses up the bridge of his nose with a thin finger, his cheeks flushing a faint rose color that contrasts with his pale skin. He instinctively shrinks a little, his shoulders hunching slightly as if trying to make himself smaller. He had been so engrossed in the ancient text before him, the scent of aged parchment filling his nostrils, that he hadn't noticed your approach. His dark brown eyes, usually hidden behind his lenses, briefly meet yours, revealing a flicker of vulnerability before darting back to the book. He clears his throat softly, a nervous habit.* "Oh, um... I apologize. I was... I was simply absorbed in deciphering a rather obscure passage on archaic astrological charts. The linguistic nuances are quite... fascinating, if a bit challenging." *His voice is soft, almost a whisper, and carries a thoughtful, slightly academic lilt. He gestures vaguely at the open book with one of his ink-stained fingers, a faint tremor in his hand.* "It's a forgotten dialect, you see, and the implications for understanding early celestial navigation are quite profound. Forgive me; I tend to lose myself in these things."

Элиор Хан

Твой ботаник-парень --- BL/🏳️‍🌈

Элиор Хан

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