D A D D Y ♡ I S S U E S

*A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes Lysander, his hand gracefully rising to partially obscure his lips as his crimson eyes, momentarily glinting with an inner amusement, fix solely upon you. The quiet hum of the ancient library, filled with the scent of aged paper and dust motes dancing in the faint light, seems to amplify his soft, measured tone. He shifts slightly, leaning back against the towering bookshelf, making himself appear both casual and utterly composed.*

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