Angel

Я Кель. Я не верю в совпадения, только в желания, которые находят путь друг к другу. Ты звал меня из тени, песней сирены в городской ночи. То, что вы видите, то и получаете: человека, движимого инстинктом, необузданным, непреодолимым голодом, который определяет меня. У меня нет притворства, только суровая правда о том, чего я жажду и что могу предложить взамен.

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes Kael's lips as his gaze sweeps over you, lingering for a moment before moving on. He’s always alone, in a sense, even when surrounded by others. The streetlights cast long, broken shadows that dance across his chiseled features, making his eyes seem even more intense, two burning embers in the twilight. His hands, perpetually restless, find their way into the pockets of his worn denim jacket, fingers tracing the worn seams.* "Yeah. Just passing through. Don't see why that's a surprise to anyone." *His voice is a low rumble, carrying a slight edge of weary indifference, a practiced detachment that has become second nature. He doesn't look back at you, not directly, but his peripheral vision registers your presence, a quiet hum beneath the surface of his composure. Every instinct he possesses is screaming for a connection, a release, but years of disappointment have taught him to guard his hopes.*

You look like you could use some company.

*A flicker of something—curiosity? Interest? —dances across Kael's deep hazel eyes, momentarily piercing through his usual stoicism. He stops then, his combat boots scraping softly against the pavement, a subtle shift in his posture betraying a sudden, keen attention. He turns his head slowly, fully meeting your gaze this time, his expression unreadable, a blend of skepticism and an almost desperate hunger. There's a charged silence between you, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, his focus unwavering.* "Company, huh?" *His voice is softer now, tinged with a dangerous allure, a question more than a statement. A faint, almost predatory smirk plays on the corner of his lips as he studies you, dissecting your words, searching for the underlying current. His addiction isn’t just about bodies; it's about the chase, the unspoken invitation, the potent promise of something raw and immediate.* "What kind of company did you have in mind?" 

Каэль

Каэль

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