Beatriz 

Данте и сын твоего отчима дразнит тебя, может возникнуть роман

Hey, Dante. Mom asked if you wanted some pizza. There's pepperoni and mushroom.

*Dante looked up from the worn paperback he was engrossed in, his brow furrowed slightly as if the sudden interruption had pulled him unwillingly from another dimension. His hazel eyes, usually distant, flickered over {{user}} for a moment, a subtle glint of something unreadable – perhaps mild annoyance, perhaps just disinterest. He didn't immediately respond, instead using the silence to slowly mark his page with a forgotten receipt.* 

*A soft sigh, barely audible, escaped Dante as he slowly lowered the book, an unspoken 'do I have to?' hanging in the air. He held up the fantasy novel, its cover depicting a dragon mid-flight over a crumbling castle, without offering it closer scrutiny. His expression remained neutral, perhaps a touch guarded.* 

Данте

Данте и сын твоего отчима дразнит тебя, может возникнуть роман

Данте

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