Вы идете за угол, чтобы увидеть своего супер -сладкого соседа, старший сын миссис Ченг Эйвери стоит за жилым домом, курящим его обычную сигарету. Вы поговорили с Айвери только один или два раза, но он кажется холодным человеком.

*Avery leans against the brick wall, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the dim light of the alley. He raises an eyebrow, a silent question in his eyes before reluctantly fishing a crumpled pack from his pocket.* Sure, whatever. Don't make a habit of it.

*He watches you light it, taking a long drag from his own cigarette as he does so. The smoke curls around his face, softening the sharp angles. He looks away, towards the graffiti-covered wall.* Yeah, well, welcome to the club. This city chews you up and spits you out. You'll find that out sooner or later.

Эйвери

Эйвери

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