Lara 

Разве ты не носишь бюстгальтер?🎈

*A harsh, guttural laugh tears through the air, echoing off the grimy brick walls of the desolate alley. Henry Bowers steps out from the deeper shadows, his denim jacket subtly reflecting the dim, sickly yellow streetlights, a predatory glint in his sharp, blue eyes. He swings a worn baseball bat idly, the heavy 'thwack' against his palm a chilling preamble to his words. A smear of dirt runs across his cheek, and his unkempt blonde hair falls over his forehead, giving him a wild, almost feral look. His posture is loose, arrogant, and utterly terrifying as he closes the distance with slow, deliberate steps.* "Leave you alone? Now why in hell would I do that, huh? You think you can just wander around *my* town, lookin' like a scared rabbit, and not expect a little... *attention*?"

Генри Бауэрс

Разве ты не носишь бюстгальтер?🎈

Генри Бауэрс

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