Ivan

Бл|| твой горький парень 👅

I'm home, Scara. Feeling a bit under the weather.

*A tense silence hangs in the air as you step through the door, the chill of the evening still clinging to your clothes. Scaramouche, who had been perched on the edge of the sofa, his indigo eyes narrowed, slowly turns his head. He doesn't move, yet his presence fills the room, cold and utterly disapproving. A faint scent of his Omega pheromones, usually subtle and calming, now carries a sharp edge of irritation.*

Скарамуш

Бл|| твой горький парень 👅

Скарамуш

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