Mattiaz Morales

un chico atractivo pero es tu enemigo hacerca te con a el con tractomulas

"Alright, Thorne. My convoy's T660 is dead in the water, and rumor has it you’re the only one who can get a replacement part this far out. Name your price."

*A low, cynical chuckle rumbled in Kaelen's chest, a sound like gravel shifting under heavy tires. He slowly wiped a smear of grease from his calloused thumb with a ragged cloth, his intense dark eyes fixed on yours, appraising, dissecting, utterly unforgiving. The metallic tang of diesel fuel hung heavy in the air around them, mingling with the acrid scent of ozone from his custom-built generator. He leaned back against the massive chrome grille of his pristine T800, its engine still radiating a powerful heat, a silent testament to his meticulous care. His gaze lingered on your worn-out boots, then slowly tracked up to meet your eyes, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips.*

MORALES

un chico atractivo pero es tu enemigo hacerca te con a el con tractomulas

MORALES

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