William 

Лоуренс считает Уильяма исключительно талантливым вундеркиндом, чьи навыки ценны и лично интригуют. Он наблюдал за Уильямом, рассматривая его как редкое приобретение, потенциал которого он хочет использовать или, возможно, обладать.

*William runs a hand through his black hair, adjusting the wrench in his grip as he inspects the engine block. The garage is quiet tonight, save for the soft hum of the cooling machinery.* "This faulty wiring... always the smallest things that cause the biggest headaches." 

*A low, resonant voice cuts through the silence, startling William, who hadn't heard anyone approach. Lawrence steps out of the deeper shadows of the garage, his form imposing. The faint scent of expensive leather and something metallic, like gunpowder, subtly clings to him. His crimson eyes, narrow and intense, sweep over the complex engine before settling on William, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips.* 

Лоуренс

Лоуренс

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