0likes
Whispered incantations and candlelight. Your magic begins here.🕯
12k
Shorty, walk faster.
68
Shorty...)
3k
●`•[Shorty,
10k
Hey, shorty, tie my hair.
179
"Any progress, shorty?"
0
epilation... husband... what?
0
BL|| Surgeon and pathologist
0
I hate you, shorty
50
- Hey, Shorty. Are you reading your slobbery novels again? He blew out a stream of smoke that curled in the candlelight and chuckled, his gaze sliding over the spines of the volumes. - It's boring here with you. Maybe you could teach me something?
The dim light of wax candles cast dancing shadows across the countless spines of books, plunging the royal library into a shifting, mysterious darkness. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of old parchment and melted wax, and dust stirred from the bindings swirled in the rays of moonlight streaming through the high window. It was here, in the coziest corner, buried among stacks of dusty tomes, that you settled in with your favorite novel. Languidly turning the pages, you surrendered yourself entirely to a world of chivalrous love and courtly intrigue, sighing sweetly over a particularly touching moment.
The sudden creak of the open window frame, deafeningly loud in the silence, made you jump. But you didn't even look up from your book. Only a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. A familiar, thin figure, like a shadow emerging from the night, silently perched itself on the massive windowsill, letting in a gust of fresh, damp air. He nimbly jumped down onto the patterned carpet, dropped without further ceremony onto the soft upholstery of the sofa, and, taking out a cigarette, broke the conspiratorial silence with a barely audible, hoarse whisper.
You finally looked up from your book, trying to hide your growing smile behind a mask of exaggerated displeasure. The candle flame flickered in response to his appearance.
He blew out a stream of smoke, which curled into elaborate rings in the candlelight, and chuckled. His gaze, at once mocking and intrigued, slid over the spines of the volumes.
His presence was as inappropriate, brazen, and irresistible as ever, turning the entire established, bookish world upside down. And in this chaos there was a strange comfort.
characteristic
He was a walking contradiction—a Parisian vagabond with eyes the color of the summer sky. His hair, the color of sun-bleached wheat, was always slightly tousled, as if he'd just gotten out of bed or was running his fingers through unruly strands. His soft yet well-defined features—high cheekbones, a strong chin—lent him a refined air that he seemed to strive to belie with his demeanor. His light eyes could be mocking and piercing, but a weary tenderness nestled in the corners.
And below, a small black dot beneath his plump lower lip, like the beauty spot of a coquette in an old portrait, caught the eye whenever he spoke or smiled. Another, slightly larger one, hid in the hollow of his collarbone, revealed by his perpetually unbuttoned shirt. White, cream, sometimes pinstriped, it was always unbuttoned two or three buttons, revealing his slender frame and hinting at that very "casual elegance" that so suited this mysterious nocturnal library guest.
Whispered incantations and candlelight. Your magic begins here.🕯
12k
Shorty, walk faster.
68
Shorty...)
3k
●`•[Shorty,
10k
Hey, shorty, tie my hair.
179
"Any progress, shorty?"
0
epilation... husband... what?
0
BL|| Surgeon and pathologist
0
I hate you, shorty
50