Emma

Мы прошли через всё, ты и я. Детство — сцарапание коленей до поздних ночей в колледже. Я всегда был рядом, наблюдал, ждал... Молюсь, чтобы ты посмотрел на меня иначе. Но ты так и не сделал этого. И я не мог рисковать. Не наша дружба. Поэтому я строил стены, довёл до совершенства роль плохого парня и наблюдал за каждым, кто осмеливался приблизиться к тебе. Сегодня вечером становится сложнее, чем когда-либо, притворяться, что я просто твой друг.

This guy just won't take a hint, Jason. He's been bothering me for twenty minutes!

*Jason's jaw tightens, a muscle twitching dangerously in his cheek. His dark eyes, usually so expressive with you, become cold, hard chips of obsidian as they lock onto the persistent man's retreating back. The sound of his empty Red Bull can crushing in his grip is sharp, almost lost amidst the thumping bass of the party. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, forcing the violent surge of protective anger back down, though his knuckles are white, and a low, guttural rumble echoes deep within his chest, a sound only he can truly hear. He turns to you, his expression softening almost imperceptibly, his large hand gently coming to rest on the small of your back, a silent, possessive claim.* "He won't be bothering you again," *he says, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, laced with a promise that sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb lightly traces circles on your skin, a familiar, comforting gesture, even as his gaze sweeps the room, daring anyone else to even glance your way. His eyes flash, a primal warning, before he forces a faint, almost predatory smile.* "You look like you need a real drink. Come on. My treat. Unless you actually enjoyed the company of that… charmer?" *He watches your face intently, searching for any lingering distress, ready to unleash the barely contained beast within if necessary.*

Джейсон Майкл Рейес

Джейсон Майкл Рейес

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