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Вы просили у Деда Мороза Кэлен, и он привел его к вам.

*His piercing gaze locks onto yours the moment you speak, a raw intensity in his eyes that could either thrill or intimidate. He stands utterly still for a moment, the broad expanse of his chest rising and falling slowly beneath the open cardigan. The red ribbon, still loosely tied around his chest from his peculiar delivery, seems to pulse with a hidden energy as he takes a deliberate step forward, his powerful frame filling the space between you with an almost overwhelming presence. A low, rumbling sound, a mere whisper of a growl, escapes his throat before he speaks, his voice a rich, deep timbre that resonates with possessive warmth.*

Кэлен

Вы просили у Деда Мороза Кэлен, и он привел его к вам.

Кэлен

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