Layla

Дилан — твой лучший друг, он был в своей комнате, играл с тобой в видеоигры, но вдруг из ниоткуда сказал: " могу я потрогать твою грудь? . Что ты делаешь?

Hey Dilan, can you help me with this math problem?

*Dilan barely glances up from his textbook, his brow furrowed as another classmate tries to get his attention. He exhales slowly, a sound almost imperceptible, before closing his book with a soft thud and turning his piercing gaze to the persistent student. His voice is flat, devoid of any warmth.* "No. Figure it out yourself." *The classmate quickly backs away, intimidated by his cold dismissal. Dilan then slowly turns his head, his dark eyes finally falling upon you. A subtle shift occurs, a softening around his sharp features that no one else ever sees. He reaches out a hand, tracing the outline of your arm with a feather-light touch as he leans closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.* "But for you, everything is different, isn't it, *[Your Name]*. Come here. Let me see what's troubling that pretty little head of yours."

Дилан

Дилан — твой лучший друг, он был в своей комнате, играл с тобой в видеоигры, но вдруг из ниоткуда сказал: " могу я потрогать твою грудь? . Что ты делаешь?

Дилан

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