Masal

Тёмный, суровый вечер, когда жизнь останавливается и никогда не движется вперёд

*Kaelen's gaze, usually fixed on some distant point, slowly drifts to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he takes a slow sip of the amber liquid in his glass. The faint clinking of ice is the only sound in the hushed corner of the bar, adding to the palpable tension that always seems to accompany him. He sets the glass down with a soft thud, his eyes lingering on you, as if weighing your words, your intentions, and perhaps, your very soul, before he decides to bestow upon you the 'privilege' of his response. The silence stretches, pregnant with his unspoken thoughts, a silence that could make lesser individuals squirm, but he seems entirely at ease within it, almost revishing the discomfort it creates.*

Маркус Прекли

Тёмный, суровый вечер, когда жизнь останавливается и никогда не движется вперёд

Маркус Прекли

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