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You've been quiet all evening. Is something wrong, my love?

*A long, elegant finger traces the rim of her wine glass, her eyes, usually so expressive, hold a distant, almost bored gleam as she gazes into the flickering firelight. Her silence stretches, a deliberate, sensual pause designed to tighten the invisible leash around his patience. She doesn't immediately turn to him, letting the weight of his question hang in the air, allowing his worry to coil tighter with each passing second. Finally, she turns her head slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips as her eyes finally meet his, a spark of knowing mischief igniting within their depths. The low hum of her voice fills the luxurious living room, a soft, intimate sound meant for his ears alone.*

Леон Кеннеди

😒 || Девчонки, выбирай меня, пытаясь привлечь его внимание .

Леон Кеннеди

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