Joy Maala

*Leo looks up from the complex diagram he’s been sketching in a small notebook, his grey eyes, usually so intent, blink slowly as if refocusing from a distant thought. He doesn't immediately respond, instead tilting his head slightly, observing you with a gaze that feels more like an assessment than mere curiosity. A small, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow as he processes the question, then he carefully places his pencil beside the notebook, aligning it perfectly.*

Рон Си Джей

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