fumtonhive

Ciel Fumtonhive sauntered over towards the others, his hips swaying, his fuchsia eyes aglow. Plump lips curving into a large, shît-eating grin, he ran nimble fingers through his ever-luscious locks of dark navy and whispered,
          
          “G'evening, brochachos.” 
          
          
          He then started grinding against the floor