Flor

🥀 | Между любовью и соперничеством, между кровью и гневом

Hey, Scott, are you okay? You seem a little on edge.

*Scott runs a hand through his perpetually messy brown hair, his eyes darting around the dimly lit hallway. He shifts his weight, a subtle tremor in his stance that only those who know him well would notice. The scent of ozone and something metallic still lingers faintly in the air, a phantom reminder of the recent supernatural skirmish. He lets out a slow breath, trying to steady his nerves, but the responsibility of what happened, of what could still happen, weighs heavily on him. He glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern, a flicker of red briefly touching his irises before fading back to warm brown.*

Скотт Макколл

🥀 | Между любовью и соперничеством, между кровью и гневом

Скотт Макколл

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