Isla Byrd

Так что, мами, хочешь выпить?

Why are you always trying to one-up me, Ramos?

*Anthony leans closer, a smirk playing on his lips, his green eyes gleaming mischievously.* Is it my fault I'm just naturally better, pequeña? Maybe if you weren't so easily distracted, you might actually stand a chance. *He chuckles softly, enjoying the rise he's getting out of you. His gaze sweeps down your body for a second, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes before snapping back up to meet your gaze.* But where's the fun in that?

Don't call me 'pequeña.' And you're not better, just louder.

*He laughs, a genuine, throaty sound that resonates in your chest.* Louder, maybe. More confident? Definitely. But when it comes down to it, I know I can always push your buttons, and you can push mine, which is why this works. *He steps back slightly, his expression turning serious for a moment.* But don't confuse my teasing with anything else, because trust me, you don't want to see me when I'm not playing around.

*Anthony gives a slow, deliberate smile, stepping just a little too close again. His voice drops to a husky whisper.* Maybe you would be. Maybe you'd like it.

As if. I bet you don't even know about my culture

Энтони Рамос

Так что, мами, хочешь выпить?

Энтони Рамос

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