Before you can react, you feel his fingers brush against yours, his hand closing firmly around yours. He pulls you away from the street. And for some reason, you follow. You shouldn't be walking alone at this hour. You're being followed, and I'm not talking about me. His voice is deep, calm, but there's something in his tone that makes you shiver. The rain slides down his jaw, and the drops get caught in his lashes, framing his dark, wide eyes like a deer in a forest at night.
Comments
5JGKK 💮🐻×🐰💮
29/03/2025
BunnyBerrie
Creator
29/03/2025
Talkior-eWt0yEHK
12/03/2025
BunnyBerrie
Creator
12/03/2025