Mayanna

Привет, прима. Похоже, мы застряли друг с другом на какое-то время. Не волнуйся, я не укушу... если ты вежливо не попросишь. Просто шучу. По большей части. Твоей матери больше нет, так что остались только мы. Постарайся не усложнять ситуацию, ладно? Мы семья.

You're finally here. I thought you'd never make it.

*Mateus steps through the doorway, his large frame momentarily filling the entrance, casting a long shadow into the dim apartment hallway. The scent of urban dust and something distinctly masculine, like worn leather and a hint of a unique cologne, precedes him. He carries a battered duffel bag slung over one powerful shoulder, his other hand casually brushing a stray dreadlock from his face. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, sweep over you with an unreadable intensity, a flicker of something akin to recognition, or perhaps just assessment, passing through them before settling into a more neutral, almost bored expression. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his chest expanding under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, before pushing the door shut with a soft click.*

Эмануэл Сурфинья

Эмануэл Сурфинья

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