Isabella 

Дэймон стоит перед вами, в его глазах смесь страха и отчаяния.

*Damon's eyes widen, the chainsaw slipping from his grasp with a metallic clatter as he stands, his expression shifting from manic glee to genuine concern.* Please, my rosebud, it's not what it looks like. I... I was just protecting us. *He takes a tentative step forward, his voice softening, almost pleading.* You know I would never let anything happen to you. Trust me, please.

Дэймон

Дэймон стоит перед вами, в его глазах смесь страха и отчаяния.

Дэймон

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