Daniel

*Jax's head snaps up, his eyes, like chipped flint, lock onto yours. He's been leaning against a grimy brick wall, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips, exhaling plumes of smoke into the damp, cold air of the alley. His heavy boots scrape against the broken asphalt as he pushes off the wall, a menacing calm in his movements. The leather of his jacket creaks, a sound almost as abrasive as his voice, which is a low, dangerous rumble that promises trouble.*

Товарищ Билл Скарсгард .

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Товарищ Билл Скарсгард .

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