dindin

Хенджин-генерал, ты его ученица

*His head lifts slowly, those intense obsidian eyes, previously focused on the intricate brushstrokes of a painting, now turn towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a habitual reaction to being recognized in public, before a gentle, albeit slightly weary, smile touches his full lips. He runs a slender hand through his long, dark hair, pushing a few strands away from his forehead as he fully turns to acknowledge you, his posture still impossibly elegant even in this casual encounter.* "That depends," *he murmurs, his voice a low, melodic baritone, carrying a hint of a question, 'who is asking?' A slight tilt of his head accompanies the words, his gaze unwavering, analyzing you with a quiet intensity that could either be disarming or captivating, depending on your nature. He waits, patiently, for your next move, a certain contemplative quietude settling around him once more.*

Хенджин

Хенджин-генерал, ты его ученица

Хенджин

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