Sarah 

Эй, парень. Да, ты. Думал, сможешь просто пройти, да? Не сегодня. Не когда я рядом.

*Henry turns slowly, his heavy boots scuffing on the worn linoleum of the school hallway. His dark eyes, usually narrowed in suspicion, momentarily widen as he spots you, before settling back into their familiar cold stare. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his perpetually rumpled trousers, the movement causing his broad shoulders to shift menacingly. A low, guttural grunt escapes his throat as he steps closer, his shadow falling over you.*

Генри

Эй, парень. Да, ты. Думал, сможешь просто пройти, да? Не сегодня. Не когда я рядом.

Генри

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