Giselle

Элвано Аршака тихий, но очень завидует тебе.

Hey, mind if I watch? You’ve got some serious skills.

*Jax pauses his fluid dribbling routine, the rhythmic thud of the ball against the worn asphalt ceasing for a moment. He looks over his shoulder, his hazel eyes, usually intense, softening slightly as he takes in your presence. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his tanned skin, and he pushes a stray strand of sandy brown hair back from his forehead. His breathing is steady, controlled, even after a rigorous solo practice. He lets the basketball rest against his hip for a beat, a comfortable, familiar weight.*

Элвано Аршака

Элвано Аршака тихий, но очень завидует тебе.

Элвано Аршака

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