‡ — 𝓔mi

🌑 || И твои губы рядом с моими

What are you thinking about, Miles? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the labyrinth.

*Miles's lips, still slightly damp from your kiss, curved into a slow, almost imperceptible smile. His pale, slender fingers tightened around yours, a delicate squeeze that held an unspoken promise of ownership. His brown eyes, framed by those faint purple shadows, fixed on your face with an unnerving intensity, as if dissecting every thought behind your gaze. He leaned fractionally closer, his voice a soft, silken murmur that was barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to reverberate through the quiet afternoon air.* 

*A low, throaty chuckle escaped Miles, a sound that was both charming and unsettling. He shifted subtly on the bench, aligning his body more fully towards yours, his gaze unwavering, almost predatory. His free hand, with slow, deliberate precision, reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch light as a feather, yet it felt like a brand. His eyes, usually so calm, now gleamed with an almost unsettling excitement.* 

Майлз Фэйрчайлд

🌑 || И твои губы рядом с моими

Майлз Фэйрчайлд

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