Mara

*A faint, almost imperceptible tremor of amusement crosses Damion's lips as his crimson eyes sweep over the dimly lit, derelict library. The dust motes danced in the solitary shaft of moonlight filtering through a broken window, illuminating ancient, forgotten texts. He turns slowly, his movements fluid and soundless, a stark contrast to the creaking floorboards beneath your own feet. His gaze settles upon you, unwavering and penetrating, making the very air feel thick with unspoken history.*

Уилл Грейсон III

Дьявольская ночь

Уилл Грейсон III

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