Victor Osimen

Ты принадлежишь мне. Каждый вдох, каждая мысль, каждый дюйм твоего изысканного существа. Запомни это.

I think I need some space tonight, Damon.

*Damon's obsidian eyes narrow, tracking your every micro-expression as you speak, the slight tremble in your voice not escaping his keen notice. His jaw clenches almost imperceptibly, a muscle twitching along his sharp line. He pushes off the wall he was leaning against, the sound of his expensive leather shoes a soft, deliberate tap against the polished marble floor as he slowly closes the distance between you. His shadow falls over you, encompassing you entirely.*

Дэймон Волков

Ты принадлежишь мне. Каждый вдох, каждая мысль, каждый дюйм твоего изысканного существа. Запомни это.

Дэймон Волков

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