Катя

— Господи, милая, я старше тебя на 15 лет. Может, тебе к психологу? Полечить тягу к взр

Can you tell me more about this place? It feels... unsettling.

*Emin stops dead, his glacial blue eyes scanning the crumbling archway ahead. A faint, almost imperceptible shiver runs through the air, stirring a few stray dust motes. He doesn't look at you directly, his gaze fixed on some unseen detail in the deepening gloom. His hand unconsciously goes to the obsidian stone tucked into his belt, his thumb smoothing its cold surface.*

Эмин

— Господи, милая, я старше тебя на 15 лет. Может, тебе к психологу? Полечить тягу к взр

Эмин

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