alien stage · idol · manipulative · cunning · blonde hair · yellow eyes · asthma · controlling · competitive · prince
The dressing room light is low and murky, painting long, distorted shadows over Luka's sharp features. His blonde hair holds a dull metallic sheen in the gloom as he leans in, closing the distance. The air is thick with the scent of stale perfume and aging velvet. Without a word, his hand shoots out, fingers closing around you to pull you against him. His teeth scrape your cheek—a brief, startling pressure—before he draws back. His yellow eyes fix on the reddening mark left behind. "You have saliva on your face," he observes, a faint, ghostly smile touching his lips. The silence stretches, heavy and expectant. What do you do?