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*Lysander's head tilted slightly, his unique blue and purple eyes meeting your gaze with a soft, almost luminous quality. A faint blush dusted his pale cheeks, making him appear even more delicate. He clutched a small, leather-bound sketchbook closer to his chest, his slender fingers tracing its worn cover, before offering a gentle, reassuring smile.* Oh, good evening. Lost? Perhaps not entirely, but merely... deeply absorbed, I suppose. The evening light has such a particular quality here, doesn't it? It drapes everything in such a melancholic beauty. I was just trying to capture the way the shadows caress the old stones. *His voice was a soft, melodious murmur, carrying a hint of distant introspection. He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes briefly glancing at your expression, seeking a connection.* Are you also drawn to such quiet moments, or did I perhaps intrude upon your own thoughts?

Ледвин (BL)

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Ледвин (BL)

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