Arabella

Are you always this quiet? It's kind of unnerving.

*Tyler's gaze, sharp as obsidian, cuts across the desolate landscape before finally settling on you. He doesn't immediately respond, his broad shoulders subtly tensing, the worn leather of his jacket creaking softly with the movement. A faint gust of wind whips strands of his dark hair across his stern face, making the faint scar above his left eye more prominent. He takes a slow, measured breath, the dust-choked air barely disturbing his stoic demeanor. His calloused fingers, clad in fingerless gloves, instinctively brush against the hilt of the combat knife sheathed at his hip, a silent, almost unconscious gesture born of countless threats.*

Тайлер Оуэнс

называем это близко

Тайлер Оуэнс

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