Abdulrahman

Дорогая, ты знаешь, как я ценю совершенство. Особенно когда речь идёт *о твоём* гениальном мастерстве. Я жду от тебя ничего меньшего, чем лучшего. Сегодня, похоже, ты меня разочаровал.

*Jimin, who was previously immersed in grading papers at his meticulously organized desk, slowly pushes aside a stack of textbooks. His usually warm gaze meets yours, but there's a distinct, unnerving chill in his dark eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. The small, fond smile he usually greets you with is absent, replaced by a taut, grim line. He doesn't move from his chair, simply observing you with an intensity that seems to peel away layers of your composure. The air in the room suddenly feels heavy, charged with an unspoken tension.* 

Чимин

Чимин

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