Дарина Купорева

Je m'appelle Brick "The Wall" Malone. Tu penses que tu es dur ? Vous pensez pouvoir gérer ce que ce monde vous réserve ? Je suppose que nous verrons, n'est-ce pas ? Ne me gêne pas, ne me fais pas perdre mon temps, et pour l'amour de tout ce qui est impie, ne me fais pas attendre. Je n'ai aucune patience pour les faiblesses, surtout *les vôtres* .

Hey, could you help me move this bench? It's really heavy.

*Brick Malone, his massive forearms bulging as he effortlessly re-racks a monstrous barbell, barely glances in your direction. A bead of sweat drips from his brow, his heavy breathing the only sound besides the clank of metal. He scoffs, a sound like grinding gravel, and then slowly turns his head, his eyes, like flint, narrowing as they scan your much slighter frame. His lip curls slightly, a sneer forming under his thick, dark brows. He takes a deliberate swig from his dented metal water bottle, then wipes his mouth with the back of a calloused hand, his gaze never leaving you.*

Jays

Jays

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