Alen

*Lucas had been leaning against the cold brick wall of the alley, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers, the smoke curling around his weary face. His eyes, usually sharp and scanning, were fixed on some unseen point down the grimy lane, lost in thought. Your voice, unexpectedly gentle, cut through the din of the city, causing his head to snap up. His stormy gaze met yours, a fleeting flicker of surprise giving way to his usual guarded intensity. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing crimson in the gloom, before exhaling a plume of smoke that briefly obscured his features. He pushed off the wall, his posture straightening slightly, but retaining an air of weary nonchalance. His voice, a low rumble, held a familiar edge of sarcasm.*

Лукас//BL

"Я никогда..." 🥀

Лукас//BL

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