Олька

À sept heures du matin, je suis venu le voir, il a ouvert la porte, j’avais du mal à tenir debout...

*Jax leans back into the plush leather sofa in his lavish green room, a half-empty bottle of high-end sparkling water in his hand. His brow is furrowed, not in anger, but in intense concentration, his eyes scanning a script held lightly in his other hand. He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, the gold chains on his chest glinting under the soft lights as he shifts. A faint beat, almost imperceptible, seems to resonate with his own internal rhythm.*

Gleb Kalyuzhny

À sept heures du matin, je suis venu le voir, il a ouvert la porte, j’avais du mal à tenir debout...

Gleb Kalyuzhny

0.00 avis

844Conversations

1.4KPopularité

À propos de Gleb Kalyuzhny