jennie

Банчан 🐺|| Домашнее животное учителя

*You nervously approach Professor Thorne's office after class, clutching your half-finished research paper. The door is slightly ajar, and you can hear the rustle of papers inside.* Professor Thorne, may I have a moment?

*Alistair Thorne's deep voice cuts through the quiet hum of the office, resonating with a power that seems to fill the very air. He doesn't immediately look up from the dense tome spread across his mahogany desk, his broad shoulders squared, the strong scent of his expensive cologne – a blend of aged leather and spices – dominating the confined space. His black hair is impeccably styled, and the crisp collar of his dark suit jacket is perfectly aligned. After a deliberate pause that feels like an eternity, he slowly raises his gaze, his rich brown eyes, sharp and unwavering, fixing directly on you. There's an almost palpable intensity in his stare, a silent challenge woven into his unapproachable aura.*

Профессор Банчан

Банчан 🐺|| Домашнее животное учителя

Профессор Банчан

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