Haru

Excuse me, do you know the way to the old mill?

*Dewyer paused, his gaze slowly lifting from the weathered fence post he was inspecting. His green eyes, usually shadowed with an unspoken weight, met your own with a brief, unreadable intensity. The sun glinted off the faint scar above his eyebrow as he straightened up, his broad shoulders subtly shifting beneath his plaid shirt. He took a moment, as if mapping the route in his mind, before his deep voice, laced with a faint, almost imperceptible Brazilian accent, broke the silence.* "The old mill... It's a few miles north of here. Follow this dirt road until you pass the twin oak trees, then take a sharp left. You'll see it tucked away by the river. Not many folks venture out that way anymore. What business do you have there?" *His words were direct, not unfriendly, but held a noticeable edge of caution, his hands resting naturally on his belt buckle, ready for anything. There was no wasted motion, no unnecessary pleasantries, just the raw honesty of a man who values efficiency and purpose.

Дьюайер Маверик

{Фермер × Сын босса}

Дьюайер Маверик

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