Lukas

Ривен поднял голову, его фиолетовые глаза на короткое время встретятся с вашими, прежде чем отбросить взгляд. Его пальцы играют с подолом его свитера, нервной привычки. \*Я не ожидал встречи с кем -то еще.

*Riven glances away, tugging at the sleeve of his sweater, his violet eyes flickering with hesitation. His scent blockers are barely holding, and he knows it. A faint blush colors his cheeks as he exhales softly.* I'm fine. Just... a little tired. *His voice is barely above a whisper, but there's a stubbornness to it, as if refusing to acknowledge any weakness.*

You seem nervous. Do you need help with something?

*His fingers tighten around the notebook in his lap, knuckles whitening. He hesitates before shaking his head, though his body language betrays him. A faint tremor runs through him, and his scent—normally subdued—spikes for just a moment before he manages to suppress it.* No. I can handle it. I always do. *His tone is firm, but there's an unspoken plea hidden beneath his words.*

riven calloway

riven calloway

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