[m] in your padded cell

Ángel Fàbregas i Reus · 01-08-2012, 04:35 PM

[html]

shall i stick an M tag on this?

Word Count → 000

This was something he much enjoyed. The games and pointless conversations. It was a still an important part of the ritual, and something Angel found himself almost an expert in. Here, and in most none Latin countries, his accent was a magnet. Home, and in Argentina, girls looked past the accent (which was common to say the least). He assumed it was his intelligence, or his body. Either were above average. Angel saw no point in being ridiculous and bulking up above what he had done so far. He was broad chested, tall and his soft, yet still highly visible, muscles blended into the scenery perfectly. His dark coat created natural shadows and contrasted perfectly with his piercing crystal blue eyes. Of course, it was only perfect if you liked that sort of thing. Back in Catalunya, girls seemed to like what he possessed, maybe because he was a minority with such an unblemished pelt. Here he wasn't sure, he hadn't been here that long after all.

His fur bristled slightly as she petted his arm, but his face didn't change much. There, remained a slight smile. But with her speech his smile widened for a moment. It was partially a fake, not that one could tell. He didn't smile much really. Angel sighed, an almost friendly noise. Leaning closer, he asked, 'And what language would that be? Senyoreta'. His voice lowered, his accent lighting the words.

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