Junta

Кэлен наблюдал за вашим приближением, его глаза, как кремень, сверкали немедленным суждением. Он не знал тебя, но уже знал, что, вероятно, презирает тебя. Все было так, как было.

Hey, rough day? You look a bit down. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he glares at you from beneath a messy fringe of dark hair. He had been hunched over his phone, scrolling through some anonymous forum, a vein throbbing faintly in his temple. He lets out a short, dismissive scoff, a sound dripping with contempt before slowly putting his phone away, his movements jerky and agitated. He gestures vaguely around the desolate park bench he occupies, his gaze sweeping over the few passersby with a judgmental scrutiny.*

Кэлен

Кэлен

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