- Send me a ‘▲’ if I’ve ever made you smile.
- Send me a ‘ϟ’ if I’ve ever made you laugh.
- Send me a ‘♪’ if you trust me/would trust me.
- Send me a ‘✈’ if you want to be friends.
- Send me a ‘❤’ if you like my blog.
- Send me a ‘∞’ if my blog is one of your favourites.
- Send me a ‘❖’ if you think I’m nice.
- Send me a ‘✖’ if you hate me/my blog.
- Send me a ‘♚’ if you wish we spoke.
thank you miss!
well I just couldn’t stay here without sharing the love between them SORRY GUYS THIS IS REAL LOVE
Calm down there erin
Ahh, how fun! I wish I could be spending my time in Hawaii. Especially since the weathers been getting colder recently.
-chuckles; She did? I’m sure it was just the character.
ah i know right? i’m so glad i came. i got to swim and all. i even accidentally met a friend here too haha it was lovely!
she said she did -laughs-
I’m doing well! Glad it’s the weekend, even though I still have work. It’s like a generic happiness that it’s the weekend. -nods; I’m glad you had fun at the theatre! Did you enjoy it?
luckily for me no work this weekend. it’s good to have a break. i’m in hawaii enjoying my time hehehe
it was fun. becky-chan said she fell in love with you ahahaha
"... Make me feel like I am human.."
Fluorescing, taunting and sinful.
Humans have always inveigled Grey, the way they mirthfully laugh, breathe and exist. He considers himself a dire deviation from the species to which he ‘identifies’ with. Is that so bad? The manner in which a woman’s voluptuous curves draw a tenebrous curlicue across his lips, or the way a man’s body seizes his attention a full block away. This time it’s no different, a hand-picked individual would arrive soon, for his to to test unto near breaking point. It riles the fire to burn reckless and malevolent in his sanguineous vessels.
Abjuring away from his windows, from the monotony of city lights and winding traffic, Grey lays in semi-repose upon his leather seating, a moment later, and his Italian-crafted loafers follow suit, resting atop his polished mahogany antique desk. His fingers melt together, interlinking, at the concurrent moment of the lift doors sliding in demure exhibition.
"Hello." He greets, to the stranger, with a slow dipping of his head, and a natural cynical smile burning a smoulder upon his countenance. "You’re late." There’s a glint in his eye, as he says this; it ignites into an inferno, as he gesticulates with his calloused hands, towards the one on the other side of his desk, "Take a seat…"