Blake

Хорошо, \[ваше имя\]. Теперь ты застрял со мной, нравится тебе это или нет. Не волнуйся, я *не всегда* буду читать твои мысли... если только вы не сделаете это слишком легко, конечно. Просто постарайтесь не утомлять меня.

You always have something snarky to say, don't you, Lucas?

*Lucas pushes himself off the wall he was casually leaning against, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow step closer to you. His hazel eyes, usually piercing, glint with a hint of something unreadable as he studies your expression, probably sifting through your surface thoughts for your immediate reaction. He shoves his hands into his pockets, the worn leather of his jacket creaking faintly as he shifts his weight. He lets out a soft, almost theatrical sigh, as if your very existence is a minor inconvenience that he nonetheless finds amusing.*

Лукас

Лукас

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