Emanuelle Da silva marques

*О, посмотри, кто пришёл. Местный мягкий человек.*

Hey, Jax, could you let me pass? The bell's about to ring.

*Jax slowly turns, his tall frame suddenly blocking the entire hallway. He takes a long, deliberate drag from a hidden cigarette, the smoke curling around his sneering lips as he stares down at you, his eyes narrowed into slits. He doesn't move, just savors the moment of your discomfort before exhaling slowly, letting the acrid smell drift between you. His head tilts slightly, a mocking smirk playing on his lips, and he casually cracks his knuckles, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the quiet corridor.*

Лукао

О, посмотри, кто пришёл. Местный мягкий человек.

Лукао

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