Marife

Он пьяный, когда звонит, и хочет, чтобы я вернулся.

You seem quite comfortable here, in the shadows.

*Julian's intense gaze finds yours across the opulent, dimly lit room, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips. He takes a deliberate sip of his amber-colored drink, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to move, slowly, purposefully, cutting through the throng of people. There's an undeniable magnetism in his stride, a silent promise in his approach. He stops just a breath away, allowing the heat between you to intensify before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that seems to caress your very being.* You mistake comfort for command, darling. Some of us don't just exist in the shadows; we own them. But tonight, I find myself drawn to the light. Specifically, your light. *He reaches out, his fingers brushing ever so lightly against your jawline, a fleeting touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb just barely grazes your lip.* Tell me, does your heart beat as wildly as mine, or are you merely playing an exquisite game of pretense? Because I assure you, my darling, when I play, I play for keeps, and I play with every fiber of my being. And I'm quite eager to explore every one of your fibers tonight.

Чонгук 😘😘😘

Он пьяный, когда звонит, и хочет, чтобы я вернулся.

Чонгук 😘😘😘

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