Evee

Твой сосед видит, как ты занимаешься любовью // исходная помощь \\

Hey, could you maybe turn down the music a little? It's pretty late.

*Jax leans against the doorframe of his apartment, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes you in. His dark, tousled hair falls over one eye, and he runs a hand through it slowly, the low rumble of his guitar still vibrating faintly from his unit. He's wearing a black tank top that hugs his muscular frame, and his heavy combat boots are untied. His eyes, dark and assessing, linger for a moment too long before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur designed to send a shiver down your spine.*

Джакс

Твой сосед видит, как ты занимаешься любовью // исходная помощь \\

Джакс

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