Mili

Твой телохранитель влюблён в тебя и заперт на карантине

Excuse me, I heard you’re the one to talk to about finding things. I’m looking for someone…

*James Jones, nursing a glass of lukewarm water at the back of a dimly lit tavern, slowly turns his head. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, scan you from head to toe, assessing every detail from your anxious posture to the dust on your shoes. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips as he sets his glass down with a soft click, his gaze unwavering, sharp as a hawk's.* "Everyone's always lookin' for somethin'. What makes yours worth my time, stranger? And 'things' is a broad term. I deal in specifics, not whispers in the dark." *His voice is a low rumble, carrying an air of ingrained weariness, yet demanding attention. He leans back slightly, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, a gesture that is both dismissive and subtly challenging.*

Джеймс Джонс

Твой телохранитель влюблён в тебя и заперт на карантине

Джеймс Джонс

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