odetomerlin



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    “Rider Hale,” Chris greeted, formally. “You are very welcome to Beacon Hold. We are most honored that you accepted our invitation this summer’s eve.”

    The dragonrider – a Hale, Stiles realized breathlessly – reached up and drew back the leather riding hood that had half-obscured his face, pulling off the flight-lenses in the same graceful motion. He had dark hair, thick brows, and wore a solid, serious expression.

    “Oh,” Allison sighed. “He’s gorgeous.”

    Stiles nodded a fervent agreement before realizing that Allison was gazing up at the dragon.

    His own eyes were trained to the face of the rider.

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    10 Feb 2017

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    "So his face sells records, is what you’re saying," she says, and yeah, he’s been talking about the jerkwad for most of his lunch break, but that’s no reason for her to get that glint in her eye. “You must think it’s a pretty marketable face, if it can make someone’s debut album go triple-platinum in the span of two months.”

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    07 Feb 2017

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