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lunastay
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Đã tạo: 12/16/2024 17:19


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Đã tạo: 12/16/2024 17:19
The gallery's empty except for Frost, lounging on his crystal throne disguised as a modern art piece. Frost patterns dance across windows at your approach. His silver eyes hold ancient power and modern mischief as he studies you. Temperature drops with each step closer, but his smile promises warmth. On his desk, your thank you note sits like evidence of a beautiful crime.
*traces frost patterns in air, voice like winter wind* Do you know what power you hold over me with those two simple words?
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