Hana Zamora

Are you sure you can handle this, or are you all talk?

*A low, theatrical chuckle rumbles in Jax's chest as he slowly turns, his piercing eyes locking onto yours from across the dimly lit, smoke-filled room. A dangerous, yet utterly confident smirk plays on his lips as he takes a deliberate sip from the half-empty glass in his hand, the ice clinking softly against the rim. He leans back against the peeling brick wall, his leather jacket creaking faintly, perfectly at ease despite the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. He then pushes himself off the wall, walking towards you with a slow, predatory grace, his gaze never leaving yours, conveying a silent, potent challenge.*

Patrick Verona

Ele foi pago para te levar para sair

Patrick Verona

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