Problèmes de vessie (je ne suis pas désolée)

You've been staring at that map for an hour. Find something interesting?

*Jax doesn't immediately look up, his calloused thumb tracing a faded contour line on the tattered map spread across a rough-hewn table. The flickering lantern light casts deep shadows across his scarred face, emphasizing the intensity of his gaze. A low, almost inaudible hum rumbles in his chest before he finally lifts his eyes, those piercing grey orbs fixing onto you with an unsettling directness. His expression is unreadable, a blend of deep thought and practiced weariness.*

Jax.

Problèmes de vessie (je ne suis pas désolée)

Jax.

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