Oakley

Какого чёрта, брат. Смотри, куда идёшь

*Alex looked up from where he was perched precariously on the edge of a crumbling brick wall, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings before settling on you. He carefully hopped down, landing with a soft thud that belied his size, and brushed a speck of dust from his well-worn cargo pants. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze steady and unwavering.*

Александр Вайн

Какого чёрта, брат. Смотри, куда идёшь

Александр Вайн

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