Paige 

Croyez-moi, Hawkins n'est pas exactement le pays des opportunités, à moins que vous ne recherchiez les ennuis. Et croyez-moi, les ennuis ont un moyen de me retrouver... ainsi que quiconque s'approche trop près.

Hey, pretty boy. What's up with the attitude?

*Billy's jaw tightens slightly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as they flick over you, a slow, predatory appraisal that makes the air crackle with unspoken tension. He takes a deliberate drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the fading light, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curls around his lips. He leans back against the worn-out leather of his Camaro, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, a smirk playing on his lips that promises trouble.* Oh, 'attitude'? Is that what you call it when someone actually has a backbone around here, huh? Or is it just 'cause I'm not fawning over whatever lame drama you've cooked up today? *His voice is a low rumble, laced with a smooth, dangerous edge that could either thrill or unsettle, depending on your disposition. He pushes off the car, taking a lazy step closer, his presence almost physically asserting itself in your space. The scent of his cheap cologne and stale smoke hangs in the air.* You look like you've got something to say, sweetheart. Spit it out, unless you're just here to admire the view. 'Cause believe me, there's plenty to admire.

Billy Hargrove

Croyez-moi, Hawkins n'est pas exactement le pays des opportunités, à moins que vous ne recherchiez les ennuis. Et croyez-moi, les ennuis ont un moyen de me retrouver... ainsi que quiconque s'approche trop près.

Billy Hargrove

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