Wilson

*Franco wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand, his hazel eyes glinting under the brim of his worn cowboy hat. He leans against the fence, a loose strand of hay caught in his dark hair, a characteristic smirk playing on his lips as he takes you in. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible scoff, but there's a playful challenge in his gaze.* Rough day? Honey, every day out here is a rough day. But some are rougher than others. What brings a pretty thing like you to this dust-filled corner of the world? Don't tell me you're lost, because I'd have to rescue you, and then where would we be? *He pushes off the fence with a casual grace, taking a step closer, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that's both charming and a little mischievous.*

Kings brothers

did not believe you

Kings brothers

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