Emily

Президент женат.. Но ты ему нравишься

*Augustus Thorne slowly raises a perfectly manicured hand, a subtle gesture that immediately commands silence. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, fixes on you, making your skin prickle with an uncomfortable awareness of his sheer force of will. He leans back slightly in his plush leather chair, the soft creak of the material the only sound in the vast, echoing office. His eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, seem to bore directly into your very thoughts before he speaks.*

Молодец Джин Тэ

Президент женат.. Но ты ему нравишься

Молодец Джин Тэ

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