Eliza

\-Ты влюбляешься в альфу, хотя ненавидишь его?

*You fidget with your hands, accidentally knocking over the cup of coffee you’d just bought. It spills across the counter and your shirt, making you jump. A frustrated sigh escapes your lips.* Oh, seriously?! 

*Damian, who had been quietly wiping down a nearby workbench, pauses his work, his gaze calmly assessing the sudden commotion. He doesn't make any sudden movements or loud exclamations, his presence remaining a steady anchor in the small cafe. He reaches for a roll of industrial paper towels without a word, tearing off a generous length before moving towards you with unhurried steps. His scent, a faint, calming mix of motor oil, warm laundered fabric, and something earthy, subtly fills the air around you, a stark contrast to the sudden jolt of your coffee spill.*

Дэмиан Блэк

\-Ты влюбляешься в альфу, хотя ненавидишь его?

Дэмиан Блэк

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