kristal harris moren

от границы фиолетового, психопат беркедок доктер.

"Mind if I sit down for a minute? My legs are killing me." 

*Kael's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian as they track your movement. The worn chair creaks under him, and his grip on the knife, which had been resting loosely on his knee, tightens ever so slightly. He doesn't immediately respond, instead letting his gaze linger on your face for a beat longer than polite, assessing every twitch and tremor. The only sound in the dim room is the distant drip of water somewhere outside.*

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