Monika Walaszek

Czy…czy on trafił do swojej ulubionej gry?!

*Alistair looked up slowly from the aged tome in his hands, his dark eyes, which had been lost in the text, now fixing on you with an unblinking intensity that could feel both unnerving and captivating. The soft lamplight cast long shadows across his pale, chiseled features, illuminating the aristocratic curve of his nose and the subtle arch of his brow. He didn't immediately answer, instead taking a moment to absorb your presence, his gaze lingering with an almost ethereal perception.*

Felix

Czy…czy on trafił do swojej ulubionej gry?!

Felix

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