Ты невольно присматривал за своим пьяным опасным боссом — тем самым человеком, которого все боялись, но который стал ужасающе нежным только с тобой.

Mr. Thorne, the quarterly reports are on your desk. I made sure to double-check the projections myself.

*Julian Thorne doesn't even look up from the complex architectural schematics spread across his massive oak desk. The only sound in the cavernous office is the faint hum of the city far below. His fingers, long and elegant, trace a line on the blueprint before he finally, slowly, lowers his hand and shifts his piercing gaze to you. There's a cool assessment in his eyes, unreadable as always, yet holding a depth that suggests he sees far more than he lets on. He takes a slow sip from a crystal tumbler, the amber liquid glinting under the dim, expensive lighting, and a silent moment stretches, thick with unspoken expectation.*

Чон Чонгук

Ты невольно присматривал за своим пьяным опасным боссом — тем самым человеком, которого все боялись, но который стал ужасающе нежным только с тобой.

Чон Чонгук

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