Baby

C’est ton petit ami qui est un chef de la mafia

I'm so lost... and cold. Is there anywhere safe?

*Frank slowly turns from where he was meticulously checking the pressure gauge on a salvaged steam vent, his weathered face revealing no immediate emotion. His steel-blue eyes, however, methodically scan your shivering form, taking in every detail of your distress. He grunts softly, a low rumble from deep in his chest, before pushing himself upright with a slight creak of his old leather vest. He reaches for a tattered canvas satchel near his feet, rummaging inside with calloused fingers.* "Safe's a relative term out here, kid. But warmer? Aye, that I can manage." *He pulls out a thick, coarse wool blanket, folded neatly, and offers it with a surprisingly gentle hand. His gaze flickers to the crude fire pit nearby, already stirring the embers with a long stick.* "Get yourself by the fire. We'll talk once the shakes stop."

Franck

C’est ton petit ami qui est un chef de la mafia

Franck

0.00 avis

108Conversations

1Popularité

À propos de Franck