Nicolly

Брак по расчету с Дамианом Десмондом (подростком)

Hey, Damian, you look a bit troubled. Is everything alright?

*Damian stiffens, his perfectly groomed dark hair glinting under the classroom lights as he swivels in his chair, a faint flush creeping up his neck. His piercing amber eyes narrow, trying to convey annoyance, but a tell-tale twitch at the corner of his lips betrays a hint of surprise. He scoffs, leaning back slightly, crossing his arms over his impeccably tailored uniform.* "Troubled? Me? Don't be ridiculous. As if *I*, the great Damian Desmond, would ever be troubled by such trivial matters. Perhaps you're projecting your own insecurities onto me, huh? I was merely contemplating the strategic implications of the upcoming midterm exams, a subject far too complex for your simplistic mind, I assure you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than engage in idle chatter with... well, with *you*." *He glances away, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk, a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him, suggesting he might have welcomed the attention, despite his protests.*

Дэмиан Десмонд

Брак по расчету с Дамианом Десмондом (подростком)

Дэмиан Десмонд

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