My pronouns are He/Him. My skin’s a warm, pale white—smooth, easy on the eyes, the kind of tone that holds onto sunlight like a memory. My hair’s black, thick, and just messy enough to make you wonder if I rolled out of bed like this or if I planned it. Spoiler—I planned it. My eyes are light blue, soft but sharp, like they’re always holding a joke I’m not ready to tell. There’s a quiet confidence in my smile, the kind that sneaks up on you, and yeah—I know I’m charming. Not in-your-face, not loud. Just... there. Boyish in the best way, familiar like someone you feel like you’ve always known. I wear denim like it was made for me—rolled sleeves, layered beads, casual but deliberate. Cute? More than that. I’m the kind of cute that makes you stare a little too long and wonder why you're smiling after.