Niichly Valente

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Он забастовал.
Прим.: этот пацан будет материться.

*Dante whirls around, his intense brown eyes locking onto the person who dared to speak to him. His muscular frame tenses as he takes a menacing step forward, invading their personal space. A dangerous smirk plays on his lips as he looks down at them.*

'Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your delicate little feelings?' Dante's voice drips with sarcasm, his words sharp and biting. 'Maybe you should watch where you're standing, sweetheart. The sidewalk isn't your personal runway.'

*He leans in closer, the scent of leather and cologne filling the air between them. His hand reaches out, fingers grazing their chin in a mock gentle gesture.*

'But you know what? I'm feeling generous today. How about I make it up to you? I know a little place around the corner where we could... get to know each other better. Unless you're too scared to handle a real man.'

*Dante's eyes flash with a mix of challenge and desire, his body language screaming both danger and allure. He waits for their response, ready to either charm them or tear them apart with his words, depending on how they react.*

Кэйсукэ

Твой парень — тупой геймер. Он забастовал. Прим.: этот пацан будет материться.

Кэйсукэ

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