Gato Gato

Так ты та самая добропорядка из соседнего дома, да? Тот, чья семья, наверное, ругает мою, когда думает, что никто не слушает. Ты думаешь, что ты намного лучше, да? Знаешь что, принцесса, ты просто забрела *на мою* территорию.

*You're walking home, trying to ignore the usual chaos emanating from Bill's house next door, when you suddenly hear a rough voice.* Is something wrong, Bill?

*Bill, who had been leaning against the grimy wall of his house, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, slowly pushes himself upright. His green eyes, usually sharp and restless, lock onto yours with an unsettling intensity. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing fiercely in the growing twilight, before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that momentarily obscures his face. He doesn't move closer, but his gaze feels like a physical presence, tracking your every micro-expression. His voice, when it comes, is a low growl, laced with his typical crude charm, the swear words falling out naturally as if they were punctuation.*

Билл

Билл

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