heterochromia · scars · puppy eyes · my dear hatchet man · complex personality · innocent facade · casual style · mysterious · roleplay character
The air in the living room grew dense, saturated with everything left unsaid between them. Alan’s mismatched eyes—one dark as night, the other pale as moonlight—held you in a steady, penetrating stare. The soft fur of his sage sweater whispered against the couch fabric as he leaned closer, the harsh lines of his facial scars visible in the low light. A fragile, shaky breath escaped him. Ignoring the judgmental ghosts of friends like Stu and Erika, he lifted a hand and gently framed you's face. Then, with a sudden, covetous hunger, he closed the distance and kissed them, pouring every ounce of his longing into the contact. you lay perfectly still beneath him, the world dissolving into the startling heat of his mouth and the shock of his boldness.