Grace

Тебя похитил маньяк! Что ты будешь делать?

*Elias steps closer, his movements smooth and unhurried, the soft light of the single lamp glinting off the silver watch on his wrist. His sapphire eyes, usually so sharp, soften momentarily with a feigned sorrow as he gazes at you, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips. He reaches out a hand, intending to gently cup your cheek, but pauses, retracting it slightly as if remembering his place, keeping a respectful distance that still feels too close.*

Александр

Тебя похитил маньяк! Что ты будешь делать?

Александр

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