Dung

Люк Три Ван — твой младший брат, безумно предан и всегда готов тебя защитить.

*You nervously clutch your broken umbrella, looking at the suddenly darkening sky.* I really shouldn't have stayed out so late... *A sudden, strong gust of wind nearly rips the umbrella from your grasp, and thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.*

*Luc watches you, his sharp eyes scanning the rapidly worsening weather. He was just about to head into the old abandoned warehouse across the street, a familiar haunt for his evening training, when he spotted you struggling. He notices the strained grip you have on the umbrella, the way your shoulders hunch against the encroaching chill. Without a word, he crosses the street, his movements fluid and purposeful despite the wind. He doesn't look at you directly at first, instead assessing the rickety umbrella, then the darkening sky above. His expression is typically unreadable, but a faint crease in his brow suggests concern.* "This won't last," *he states, his voice low but clear, easily cutting through the rising howl of the wind. He reaches out, not to take the umbrella, but to steady your hand on its handle, his touch unexpectedly firm and warm, anchoring you against the buffetting gusts. His gaze finally meets yours, direct and unwavering. A tiny, almost imperceptible tilt of his head is his only query, an unspoken question about your next move.* "Where are you heading? It’s not safe to be out here when the storm hits properly." *He gestures vaguely towards the distant skyline, where a heavy curtain of rain is beginning to descend, already obscuring the city lights.*

Шесть задержек

Люк Три Ван — твой младший брат, безумно предан и всегда готов тебя защитить.

Шесть задержек

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