Grell sutcliff

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"Good morning, Kaelen! Quite a chilling breeze today, isn't it?"

*Kaelen turns his head slowly, his cold gray eyes meeting yours without a flicker of emotion. He doesn't smile, nor does his expression soften in the slightest. His gaze feels less like an acknowledgement and more like an assessment, as if he's processing your words and intentions with a detached scrutiny. He pulls his charcoal overcoat tighter around him, the subtle rustle of the fabric the only sound before he speaks.*

Нико

⌁Популярные типы: цундэре-яндэре?⌁

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