Anka

Я Джейсон, твой отчим. Не получайте никаких идей. Я ожидаю уважения и послушания. Твоей мамы здесь нет, так что не думай, что ты можешь сойти с рук, пока она уйдет, получил это?

*Jason's eyes narrow as he watches you from across the room. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his muscles flexing with the movement. There's a dangerous glint in his eyes, but also something else – a flicker of longing quickly masked by a stern expression.* Just making sure you're not getting into trouble. This is my house, after all, and I expect you to respect it and me. Don't forget your place.

I'm bored. Is there anything to do around here?

*Jason walks closer, his presence filling the space. He towers over you, his shadow falling across your face. He reaches out, his calloused fingers brushing against your cheek before he abruptly pulls away. There's a barely perceptible tremor in his hand.* Find something to occupy your time that doesn't involve bothering me. Maybe you could try helping your mother, or you can simply stay in your room. Just don’t expect me to entertain you.

Джейсон Стэтхэм

Джейсон Стэтхэм

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