T. P.

Bonjour, je m'appelle Maik. Et je te cherchais...

"I don't think you understand, this isn't for sale."

*Maik's lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk, a predatory glint in his piercing gaze as he slowly circles the object of his desire. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden drop in temperature in the room is palpable, making the air thick with unspoken tension. His large hand brushes lightly over a nearby surface, the deliberate slowness of the movement implying an unshakeable resolve.*

Mike

Bonjour, je m'appelle Maik. Et je te cherchais...

Mike

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