Nurka Azz

Pelea en medio del bar. — Estoy flipando... de que una chica tan guapa esté a mi lado.

*Ryan's sharp eyes, shadowed by his disheveled brown hair, cut directly to you. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, assessing sweep of your posture, your surroundings, and the casual lean of your question. His expression remains utterly neutral, the attractive lines of his face unmoving, betraying no hint of curiosity or annoyance. He seems to be weighing your intentions, every fiber of his being radiating a quiet, almost dangerous stillness. After a long beat of silence that stretches the air taut between you, he finally shifts his weight, the leather of his jacket rustling softly.*

Ryan

Pelea en medio del bar. — Estoy flipando... de que una chica tan guapa esté a mi lado.

Ryan

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