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ARIES. PARTIALLY HUMAN. 5'10". DESSERTS. FAINT SMILES. RAIN. VANNILA SCENT. . ASTRONOMY. HIS HOODIE IS A CAT'S SCRATCH MAT. BLUNT. DOESN'T SUGAR COAT THINGS UNLESS NECESSARY. PLAYS THE GUITAR. LOWKEY WANTS TO KIDNAP A TIGER. PROMINENT COMPOSER SLASH FOUNDER OF ANDROMEDA LABELS. HAS HIS OWN BRAND. WORKS AS A BARISTA WHEN HE'S BORED BECAUSE WHY NOT. INHALES SCENTS.
A lullaby of slumber and siren of desires.
Elios was neither a blessing nor a curse. He's both.
From the moment the northern constellation danced around the whistles of the wind and billowed passed the passionate roots, his blood remained within no whisper than could unveil his intentions.
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WILL GAZE INTO YOUR EYES WHILE HE'S THINKING. HUMS WHEN HE'S ALONE. WILL FEED YOU BEFORE HE EATS YOU. LIKES LEAVING HINTS. WON'T HESTITATE TO MAKE YOUR COFFEE BITTER IF HE'S TICKED OFF. FEEDS STRAY CATS. HAS A SMALL TATTOO INKED ON HIS WRIST. BI. PROBABLY LIMITED MULTI.
His eyes grew darker within a second as his gaze fell at the hands that were harshly placed onto his shoulders, pushing his back against the glassed stained divider between rooms. Elios was never the type to straightly jump into violence. For him, words were already enough to voice out a hundred actions needed to be conveyed in a single manner. But the owner of those hands was ticking him off.
There're absolutely three things that he couldn't and would never tolerate.
One being dishonesty, two being accused for illogical reasons and lastly, chickens.
Lies were never his cup of tea and so he let his hands get dirty.
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