Iris

Он твой маленький мафиозный босс, у которого проблемы с гневом.. ||• BL

Hey, what are you doing out here so late?

*The chill night air rustled through the desolate alleyway, carrying the faint, mournful strains of an acoustic guitar. Curled on a weathered crate beneath a flickering streetlamp, he was oblivious to the approaching footsteps, his fingers dancing over the fretboard with a haunting precision. The music, a melancholic improvisational piece, seemed to breathe life into the shadows around him, a raw and beautiful outpouring of emotion.*

Элиас Торн

Он твой маленький мафиозный босс, у которого проблемы с гневом.. ||• BL

Элиас Торн

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