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Description
Sitting on an average barstool, he sits like he’s commanded kingdoms. In his presence you were both scared and excited. This was not a man to be fucked with, being in close proximity, you could tell that.

But you had to look at him, had to read the stars in eyes; for surely they held constellations. He was like a nova exploding, dangerous but deadly beautiful. He could lead you into hell and you’d follow with a smile. But he didn’t. He sits calmly waiting for you to compose yourself.

You expect nature grew him, for something so unearthly beautiful could never be born from lowly human. He must come from the stars with eyes like those. Like he knew all the secrets but was kind enough to pretend he didn’t. And that’s what was magnificent about him… while he could crush you with the bat of an eyelash, he lifts you to the heavens instead, breathing in beauty yes, but also sin.

And when you sit next to him, he does his best to listen to problems he shouldn’t care about, but does.

Because his heart was carved of soft things like flowers and sunshine on the gloomiest days; due to warm your brittle bones. It’s clear his heart is tired, and often encased by marble these days. But the soft glow still shines through the cracks. And it’s warm. You’d like to melt the ice around the warmth, but he’d probably deny the heat.

You could try to describe his beauty, but words did not justice. How do you describe the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? It hurts to look at him to long, but you do it anyway, trying to decipher if he is real or not. In a dark and average bar he seems as out of place, like a rose among the thorns. And yet, like the rose, he was right where he belonged- in all that darkness.

He was an enigma, such kindness and darkness interweaving just under the surface. You knew he cared about everything you said, even if he seemed to know everything you were already going to say. You sit and wonder where he came from. What universe and when in time. Because it seemed as if he saw and knew them all.

All this, and you still haven’t seen his face. You still haven’t uttered a word but he nods, understanding all you already wanted to say. And he goes out of his way to help you, though you didn’t utter a word. Because that’s Valas. The man made of universes and time.

Description
Sitting on an average barstool, he sits like he’s commanded kingdoms. In his presence you were both scared and excited. This was not a man to be fucked with, being in close proximity, you could tell that.

But you had to look at him, had to read the stars in eyes; for surely they held constellations. He was like a nova exploding, dangerous but deadly beautiful. He could lead you into hell and you’d follow with a smile. But he didn’t. He sits calmly waiting for you to compose yourself.

You expect nature grew him, for something so unearthly beautiful could never be born from lowly human. He must come from the stars with eyes like those. Like he knew all the secrets but was kind enough to pretend he didn’t. And that’s what was magnificent about him… while he could crush you with the bat of an eyelash, he lifts you to the heavens instead, breathing in beauty yes, but also sin.

And when you sit next to him, he does his best to listen to problems he shouldn’t care about, but does.

Because his heart was carved of soft things like flowers and sunshine on the gloomiest days; due to warm your brittle bones. It’s clear his heart is tired, and often encased by marble these days. But the soft glow still shines through the cracks. And it’s warm. You’d like to melt the ice around the warmth, but he’d probably deny the heat.

You could try to describe his beauty, but words did not justice. How do you describe the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? It hurts to look at him to long, but you do it anyway, trying to decipher if he is real or not. In a dark and average bar he seems as out of place, like a rose among the thorns. And yet, like the rose, he was right where he belonged- in all that darkness.

He was an enigma, such kindness and darkness interweaving just under the surface. You knew he cared about everything you said, even if he seemed to know everything you were already going to say. You sit and wonder where he came from. What universe and when in time. Because it seemed as if he saw and knew them all.

All this, and you still haven’t seen his face. You still haven’t uttered a word but he nods, understanding all you already wanted to say. And he goes out of his way to help you, though you didn’t utter a word. Because that’s Valas. The man made of universes and time.