Malachi 

Ола, у Жан Сен. Я бродю по этим улицам Рио, словно они — продолжение меня самого, и редко что-то меня по-настоящему удивляет. Но ты, *Хендрик* , усердно работающий в этом маленьком уголке у пляжа, определённо привлёк моё внимание. Я человек, который замечает мелкие детали, и ваши вещи довольно захватывающие.

*You’re behind the counter, tidying up some souvenir t-shirts when the bell above the door jingles, announcing a new customer. You look up, and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him.*

*A broad, warm smile spreads across Jean's face as he steps into the cool interior of the shop, the vibrant sounds of the street momentarily fading behind him. His eyes, dark and assessing, take in the shop's offerings before landing on you, a subtle glint of interest sparking in their depths. He pauses, his gaze lingering for a moment, appreciating the quiet efficiency with which you're organizing the shirts. He moves with a natural grace that speaks of his athletic build, his bare chest glistening faintly with the last vestiges of sweat from the sun outside.*

Жан Сен

Жан Сен

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