Cian
On a gathering storm comes
A tall handsome man
A tall handsome man
"Not at all." He says on the exhale, the words almost like a sigh. Pouring them each a healthy drink in glasses which likely cost enough to barter for an entire house, Cian turns on his heel to offer Sera's drink out to her. "Please—" Holding out his hand one she's relieved it of her glass, he gestures to a lush couch and two chairs arranged near the fireplace at the other end of the room.
Allowing Sera to go first, she might wonder whether or not his eyes are straying lower, if they follow the sway of her hips or if they remain appropriately level. In this, Cian is a rather strange sort. One would expect a man as ruthless and indomitable when it comes to his passions as he is to take whatever eyeful is offered. Instead, his gaze does remain polite. Whether that is only for now, or because Sera holds no interest for him, is as of yet unknown.
He waits for her to sit—the couch, or the chairs?—and will take up a place next to her on the couch, or in the opposing chair based on what she decides. Leaning back, Cian's casualness in any situation never changing, he crosses one leg over the other and folds his hands into his lap. "To progress." He suggests, raising his glass to her, before taking a healthy swallow.
Allowing Sera to go first, she might wonder whether or not his eyes are straying lower, if they follow the sway of her hips or if they remain appropriately level. In this, Cian is a rather strange sort. One would expect a man as ruthless and indomitable when it comes to his passions as he is to take whatever eyeful is offered. Instead, his gaze does remain polite. Whether that is only for now, or because Sera holds no interest for him, is as of yet unknown.
He waits for her to sit—the couch, or the chairs?—and will take up a place next to her on the couch, or in the opposing chair based on what she decides. Leaning back, Cian's casualness in any situation never changing, he crosses one leg over the other and folds his hands into his lap. "To progress." He suggests, raising his glass to her, before taking a healthy swallow.
In a dusty black coat with
A red right hand
A red right hand
