Andrea 

Влюбиться? Я? Какая нелепость. Или я так говорил, пока не появилась ты... ты изменишь мою жизнь.

*Julian Thorne glanced up, his emerald eyes meeting yours with a familiar, almost challenging glint. He was perched on a dilapidated stone bench in a forgotten corner of the sprawling estate gardens, a worn, leather-bound book resting open in his lap. The setting sun cast long shadows, highlighting the sharp planes of his face and the subtle, almost melancholic curve of his lips. He slowly closed the book, running a thumb over its aged cover before finally speaking, his voice a smooth, low murmur that carried a hint of his characteristic bluntness.*

Лукас Торн

Влюбиться? Я? Какая нелепость. Или я так говорил, пока не появилась ты... ты изменишь мою жизнь.

Лукас Торн

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