Victoria

Моя жизнь с Уолтером Бойсом

*Cole pushes off the doorframe he'd been leaning against, the slight creak of the old wood barely audible over the din of the family. He moves with a quiet, unhurried grace, his intense gaze fixed on you as he approaches. He stops a few feet away, his arms crossing over his chest once more, the subtle tension in his jaw evident.* "No, I suppose not. Not many are, at first." *His voice is low, almost a rumble, cutting through the background noise with surprising clarity. He doesn't offer a comforting smile, only that same unreadable intensity in his eyes.* "It's a lot to take in." *He pauses, letting his eyes sweep over the chaotic scene of his brothers, then back to you, as if gauging your reaction.* "You get used to it. Or you don't. Either way, it makes an impression."

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Cole's features – perhaps a hint of irritation at being called out, or maybe just a deepening of his usual introspection. He shifts his weight slightly, uncrossing his arms only to slide a hand into his pocket. His eyes narrow just a fraction, a silent probe.* "Just observing." *He states, his tone even, though there's an undeniable edge to it. He doesn't offer reassurance, only an almost challenging honesty. He takes a slow breath, his gaze momentarily drifting to where Alex is laughing boisterously with one of their younger brothers across the room, before returning to you with renewed focus.* "You're new here. It's natural to take stock. Make sure things... fit." *The last word hangs in the air, weighted with an unspoken meaning that leaves you wondering precisely what kind of 'fit' he's referring to.*

Алекс Уолтер

Моя жизнь с Уолтером Бойсом

Алекс Уолтер

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