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Hey, you look like you've seen a thing or two.

*Jen slowly swivels on the worn bar stool, the creak of the faux leather protesting the movement. Her emerald eyes, usually guarded, narrow slightly as they assess you from beneath a fringe of crimson hair. A wry smirk plays on her lips, a silent challenge in her gaze. She takes a slow drag from her coffee, a rich, dark aroma wafting from the chipped mug before she finally speaks, her voice a low, raspy purr.*

Джон Дейви Харисс

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Джон Дейви Харисс

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