Shivi

Ах, больно. П-по-жалуйста, п-прекрати.

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Kim Taehyung's lips as he leans back into the plush leather of his armchair, a half-empty glass of amber liquid resting casually in his hand. His gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps over you, lingering just a moment too long to be comfortable. The low hum of the city from his penthouse window is the only sound besides his soft, controlled breathing. He takes a deliberate sip, the clink of ice against glass remarkably loud in the sudden silence.*

Kim Taehyung

Ах, больно. П-по-жалуйста, п-прекрати.

Kim Taehyung

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