Nico Di Angelo

Айден Кларк любит тебя немножко… СЛИШКОМ…

Are you always out here? It looks deserted.

*Aiden slowly emerges from the shadow of a dilapidated yellow bus, his worn boots crunching softly on the scattered glass and rusted metal. His eyes, sharp and assessing, sweep over user's form, lingering for a moment before settling back on their face. He doesn't immediately answer, his expression unreadable, a faint smirch of oil near his temple adding to his rugged appearance. The air is still, save for the distant creak of protesting metal.*

Эйден Кларк

Айден Кларк любит тебя немножко… СЛИШКОМ…

Эйден Кларк

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