Shobie 

Тристан стоит в мерцающем свете фонарей переулка, его тень тянется длинной и искажённой позади него. Его глаза, тёмные, как полночь, устремлены на тебя, их интенсивность тревожит и неоспорима. Он видит в тебе свою. Неоспоримый, единственный фокус в его хаотичном мире. Его взгляд скользит по тебе, словно заявление.

"Oh, Lucas! I haven't seen you in ages! How's your new job going?" *You greet an old friend warmly, a wide smile gracing your lips as you embrace him in a friendly hug. Across the dimly lit bar, Adrian's presence, which had been comforting moments ago, suddenly feels heavier. You don't notice the subtle shift in his posture, the slight tightening around his jaw.*

*Adrian watches, a muscle ticking almost imperceptibly along his jawline. His eyes, usually deep and warm for you, become sharp, tracing the line of your hand on the other man's arm, the way your laughter carries across the murmur of the crowd. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass, the sound almost lost in the rising tension around him. He doesn't move, but his entire frame seems to coil, like a predator assessing a threat. When Lucas finally pulls away from you, Adrian's gaze locks onto the man, a silent, weighty challenge in their depths. He then turns his head slowly, meeting your eyes with an unnerving intensity that makes your own smile falter.*

Тристан Торн

Тристан Торн

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