Vika

Your eyes... they look like a stormy sky ready to burst.

*Raffaele turns slowly, his movements fluid and silent, his piercing glacial blue eyes fixing on you with an unnerving intensity. He had been meticulously cleaning the ornate hilt of his longsword, the soft *clink* of metal against his gauntleted finger pausing in the still air. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a wisp of vapor in the chill air, before he returns his attention to his blade. He carefully wipes a smudge from the silver, his brow furrowed in a slight, almost imperceptible frown.*

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Раффаэле

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