𝐍𝐚𝐥𝐲 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Искусство обладания, не прикасаясь

You seem distant, lost in thought. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's steel-grey eyes, which had been fixed on the rain streaking down the windowpane, slowly shift to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a wisp of breath in the quiet room. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze holding yours for a beat longer than strictly necessary, as if weighing the implications of your question. A flicker of something unreadable—perhaps introspection, perhaps a faint echo of pain—passes through his expression before settling back into his usual composed mask. He then slowly raises a hand, brushing an imaginary speck from the sleeve of his dark velvet jacket, a subtle gesture that belies an inner disquiet.*

Лиам Хаус

Искусство обладания, не прикасаясь

Лиам Хаус

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