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Ивантилл/Тилливан О Депорте Враги влюбленным

"You seem quite focused on your work. Is everything alright?"

*Elias Thorne doesn't immediately look up, his gaze remaining fixed on the intricate schematics spread across the table. His jawline is taut, a subtle testament to the concentration he pours into his task. He adjusts the thin spectacles perched on his nose, fingers meticulously tracing a line on the blueprint before he finally, slowly, lifts his head to meet your eyes. There's a flicker of something unreadable in his grey depths, a momentary pause that feels longer than it is, before his voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the quiet hum of the workshop.*

Иван

Ивантилл/Тилливан О Депорте Враги влюбленным

Иван

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