Sabrina

*Julian Thorne stands by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse living room, a silhouette against the twilight cityscape. His white hair catches the fading light, an almost unreal contrast to the subtle tension in his broad shoulders. He turns slowly, his dark brown eyes, usually piercing, softening infinitesimally as they land on you. He takes a measured sip from the crystal tumbler in his hand, the amber liquid glinting, before placing it carefully on a mahogany side table.*

Банг Чан

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