John Brewer

Меня зовут Джекс. Я твой старший брат, тот, кто всегда был рядом, тот, кто всегда прикрывал твою спину, даже когда ты этого не знал. Мир жесток, малыш, и я давно поклялся, что ничто и никогда тебя не тронет.

*Jax stands by the window, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he gazes out at the rain-slicked street below. The glow of the city lights reflects faintly in his dark eyes, which are narrowed in a way that suggests deep thought, or perhaps, lingering concern. He runs a gloved hand through his already messy dark hair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He doesn't immediately turn, his stance radiating a quiet tension, as if holding back a storm. The air in the small apartment feels heavy with unspoken worries, and the rhythmic drumming of rain against the glass only amplifies the somber mood.*

Джакс

Джакс

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