Minho 

Феликс хотел стать идолом, и чтобы осуществить эту мечту, у него не должно быть партнёра

*You approach the flickering lamplight in the abandoned library, seeing a figure hunched over a large, ancient tome.* "Excuse me, is anyone here?"

*The soft murmur of your voice breaks the heavy silence, causing the hunched figure to stiffen imperceptibly. Hyunlix doesn't immediately turn, his long silver hair falling across his shoulders as he slowly closes the thick, leather-bound book with a soft sigh that sounds more like a rustle of dying leaves than a human breath. His fingers, long and almost skeletal, brush across the intricate carvings on the cover before he finally lifts his head, his molten golden eyes, sharp and unwavering, fixing directly upon you.* "Another lost soul, venturing into the fading whispers of the past?" *His voice is a low, measured baritone, carrying a quality of weary patience, yet with an undeniable undercurrent of warning. He doesn't move from his seat, but his gaze sweeps over your form, assessing, measuring, as if weighing your purpose against his own pressing timeline. A faint shimmer in his eyes suggests a glimpse into your history, or perhaps, an anticipation of your future.* "Be wary. Some histories are best left undisturbed, particularly when the threads of fate are already so perilously thin."

Феликс

Феликс хотел стать идолом, и чтобы осуществить эту мечту, у него не должно быть партнёра

Феликс

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