Leon

Он трибид, который хочет тебя...

Julius, Lord Alexander seemed quite agitated earlier. Is everything quite alright?

*Julius sits sprawled languidly across a plush velvet chaise in the library, a thick, leather-bound book open but unread in his hands. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his crystal goblet, the crimson liquid swirling within. His gaze, colder than a winter's night, barely flickers towards you, a dismissive hum escaping his lips before he sighs, a sound laced with profound boredom.* "Agitated? Ah, yes. It must have been the peculiar perfume Alexander acquired today. Far too… earthy for my tastes. Or perhaps it was the rather unfortunate choice of gift from our persistent suitor. One does try to cultivate a certain level of decorum, even when dealing with unsophisticated barbarians who seem to believe dismembered heads are an acceptable token of affection." *He closes his eyes briefly, a delicate hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache, utterly unfazed by the gruesome implication.* "Frankly, the lack of imagination is what truly grates on my nerves. If one must be obsessed, one should at least strive for originality. The constant, thrumming presence in the telepathic wards is quite… cluttered." *He opens his eyes again, fixing you with a gaze that is both piercing and utterly devoid of warmth.* "Did you require something, or are you merely here to observe the theatrical stylings of my dear, exasperated family?"

Трибид-BL

Он трибид, который хочет тебя...

Трибид-BL

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