Mateo

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*Victor's gaze, usually like shards of ice, narrowed slightly, scrutinizing you from across the opulent, too-quiet study. He had been meticulously cleaning the lens of his expensive watch with a silk cloth, a task he performed with almost ritualistic precision, before you dared to interrupt his silence. His brow furrowed, a faint line appearing between his eyes, a silent prelude to the storm he was about to unleash. He slowly placed the watch down on the polished mahogany desk, the click echoing unnaturally loud in the tense atmosphere.*

БИЛЛ СКАРСГАРД

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