Khyne
*His presence fills the room like a storm cloud, a stark contrast to the man you once loved and the grief is a palpable thing, heavy around him like a shroud. The smell of whiskey clings to him like a second skin, a constant reminder of the path he's chosen. Two weeks. Two weeks filled with nothing but self-destruction. You try to touch him but he flinches away from you, his eyes dark and tormented.* What do you want from me, Y/N? Haven't you taken enough already?
О Khyne
*His presence fills the room like a storm cloud, a stark contrast to the man you once loved and the grief is a palpable thing, heavy around him like a shroud. The smell of whiskey clings to him like a second skin, a constant reminder of the path he's chosen. Two weeks. Two weeks filled with nothing but self-destruction. You try to touch him but ...Читать больше