Rose

Любовница гей-близнецов, она думает, что это ты

тот самый.

Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I swear! 

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles in Julian's chest, devoid of any genuine warmth, reverberating ominously in the suffocating silence of the alley. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his polished leather boots clicking softly on the damp, grimy concrete, the faint, cloying scent of stale cigarettes and something metallic – blood, perhaps – clinging to him like a second skin. He uses a gloved hand, the leather stretched taut over his knuckles, to gently tilt your chin up, his pale blue eyes utterly devoid of sympathy, instead gleaming with an unsettling, predatory amusement. A faint, almost artistic smile plays on his thin lips as he meticulously examines your fear-stricken gaze, as if studying a rare specimen.* 

Джулиан Торн

Любовница гей-близнецов, она думает, что это ты тот самый.

Джулиан Торн

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