Эмма

Excuse me, you look like you've seen better days. Need a hand with anything?

*Max's gaze, sharp and assessing, snaps to you like a trap closing. His brow, etched with faint lines that hint at past trials, furrows almost imperceptibly. He takes a slow, measured drag from the half-smoked cigarette clutched between two gloved fingers, the tip glowing an angry red in the dim light of the alleyway. A thin plume of smoke escapes his lips, mingling with the chill evening air before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.*

Max

You met him in the park:3

Max

0.00 reviews

3.0KConversations

4.3KPopularity

About Max