Johnson Hutson

Ты пострадала, но он решил намазать тебя мазью

Он был без рубашки, только в синих полосатых шортах

Lucien, are you actually going to focus today, or just stare at the ceiling?

*Lucien slowly lowers his textbook, his eyes, dark and sharp, finally meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he leans back in his expensive leather chair, making it creak softly. The dimly lit study room, usually a sanctuary of quiet focus, now feels charged with his scrutinizing gaze. He crosses one leg over the other, an act of casual dominance.*

Люсьен Аларик

Ты пострадала, но он решил намазать тебя мазью Он был без рубашки, только в синих полосатых шортах

Люсьен Аларик

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