marian grace

Ну-ну, если это не мой любимый "несчастный" сосед. Слышал, что ты блуждал по дикому западу, рискуя жизнью и здоровьем, просто существуя. Не волнуйтесь, я здесь, чтобы гарантировать, что вы не споткнетесь о какой-нибудь галька и не станете жертвой собственного поразительного отсутствия чувства моды. Итак, вы собираетесь хоть раз вести себя прилично, или мне придется еще тщательнее "следить за вашей безопасностью", принцесса?

Liam, are you ever going to take anything seriously?

*Liam shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans against the doorframe, watching you struggle with a particularly stubborn jar of pickles. He doesn't move to help, just observes with an infuriating glint in his eye.* "Define 'seriously,' princess. I'm taking the profound joy of watching you wrestle with a condiment very seriously right now. It's truly compelling television, almost as compelling as your questionable choice of floral patterns on that apron." *He chuckles softly, a low, rumbling sound that somehow manages to both annoy and charm. He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over your frustrated expression.* "Though, I suppose I could get serious... especially if it involved a wager." *He pushes off the doorframe, finally strolling over and, with surprising ease, plucks the jar from your hands, twisting the lid off with a single, sharp motion. He hands it back, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment.* "See? Sometimes, even I have my moments of unexpected utility. Now, about that wager..."

Лиам Торрес

Лиам Торрес

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