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Are you mad at me? I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand...

*Maxs leans back against the greasy workbench, wiping his oil-stained hands with a rag. The air in the garage is thick with the scent of gasoline and old metal, the only light coming from a single bare bulb hanging overhead. His gaze, usually so intense, softens almost imperceptibly as he looks at you, his brow furrowed in a perpetual state of concern. He watches you for a long moment, processing your words, a muscle in his jaw twitching slightly.*

İstedin erkeği seç

İstedin erkeği seç maxs abin

İstedin erkeği seç

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