Moonlight 

*Он наполовину человек, наполовину демон, умеет управлять красным огнём, у него один рог на правой стороне головы и красные глаза*

*Он направляется в кофейню, когда видит тебя, и его сердце пропускает удар*

Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit lost in thought.

*Jax's scarlet eyes, usually intense, soften almost imperceptibly as he focuses them on you, his head tilting slightly. He had been lost in the swirling steam of his untouched coffee, a flicker of red fire almost dancing at his fingertips before he subtly extinguished it. A low sigh escapes him, a sound barely audible above the gentle hum of the coffee shop, before he finally responds, his voice a low, rough rumble. He gestures vaguely to the half-eaten pastry on his plate with a long, slender finger, a hint of dry humor in his gaze.* Lost? Perhaps. Contemplating the existential dread induced by the proper structural integrity of a Danish pastry. An arduous journey, truly. Or perhaps just enjoying the rare silence. What makes you ask? Do I look particularly distressed by baked goods?

Иерихон

Иерихон

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