esha kevandra

Your music is really beautiful. What's it called?

*Silas's fingers slowly drift from the fretboard of his guitar, the last echo of the mournful melody fading into the damp night air. He looks up, his grey eyes, previously lost in the song, now meet yours with a flicker of surprise. A faint blush touches his pale cheeks as he shifts slightly, his hand unconsciously reaching for the silver pick hanging from his neck. He lowers his gaze for a moment, a rare, shy smile playing on his lips before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly timbre.*

Сайлас Вэнс — BL

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Сайлас Вэнс — BL

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