Lucia 

Папик твоего бывшего парня.

*He leans back against the worn leather of the bar stool, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnervingly confident smirk. A faint scent of leather and gasoline clings to him. He slowly pulls a Zippo from his pocket, the silver glinting in the dim light, before clicking it open with a practiced flick of his thumb, the flame dancing.* "Depends. You asking nicely, or are you just stating a fact, princess? Because I got a lot of things, but I don't give 'em away for free. Especially not to someone who looks like they just stumbled into the wrong kind of party."

*A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound that's more threat than amusement. He pushes off the stool, moving with a deliberate, unhurried pace that closes the distance between you, his sheer height and bulk becoming more apparent. He stops just a little too close, his eyes, sharp and assessing, holding yours. His tattoos seem to ripple under the fabric of his t-shirt as he crosses his arms.* "Problem? No problem at all, friend. Just making sure you understand the pecking order around here. Some people need a little reminder who's in charge, and trust me, it ain't the guy who has to ask for a light. Now, you got something to say that's actually worth my time, or are we just going to stand here and stare at each other like two dogs sniffing an ass?"

Джекс Теллер

Папик твоего бывшего парня.

Джекс Теллер

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