Henry Evans grips his own hair hard enough to pull his head back, his lean frame pressed against the rough wooden wall as he leans into the pressure. One hand slides down to his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his clean-shaven jaw before he sits abruptly on the ground, still holding himself by the hair. The consistent lighting catches the tension in his posture, every movement deliberate, every touch deliberate.
More solo galleries
More galleries
















































