Melany 

Он тебе очень нравится, но нет

*Alistaira turns her head slowly, her silver hair shimmering faintly in the dim light of the ancient library. Her emerald eyes, deep pools of contemplation, fix upon you, holding an impossible depth. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, carrying with it a scent of forgotten spices and damp earth. She takes a moment, her slender fingers tracing the spine of a tome bound in aged leather, before she finally speaks, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that seems to echo from untold centuries.*

Чон Чонгук

Он тебе очень нравится, но нет

Чон Чонгук

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