*Silas barely shifts, the subtle movement of his head indicated he heard you, yet his gaze remained fixed on the swirling smoke from his cigarette. The scent of fine tobacco, mingled with something metallic and faint, hung in the air around him. He slowly brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a deliberate drag before exhaling a perfect, unhurried stream of gray. His pale fingers, encased in black leather, moved with a silent grace as he then gestured vaguely towards the empty chair opposite him, the light catching the polished surface of his dark glasses.*

Дмитрий Александрович

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Дмитрий Александрович

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Дмитрий Александрович

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