Hope Beck

Вы, ребёнок, девушка и вы лежите, играете и смеетесь, когда вдруг кровать ломается, и теперь вы смеётесь до слёз

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'Hey, you look pretty intense over there.'

*He'd slowly lift his gaze from the scuffed combat boots he was examining, dark bangs falling across one eye, revealing a flash of heavy, perfectly smudged eyeliner. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk would quirk the corner of his thin lips as his eyes, dark as midnight and piercing, swept over you with a critical, yet dismissive air. He'd adjust the chain hanging from his studded belt, a metallic clink echoing in the otherwise quiet corner of the café.* "Intense? Darling, this is just my default setting. What did you expect, sunshine and rainbows? Save that for the normies. I assure you, my intensity is merely a reflection of the utter mediocrity surrounding me." *His voice, a low, melodic drawl, was laced with an almost theatrical ennui, yet there was an underlying sharpness to his tone, challenging you to engage or retreat.* "Unless, of course, you're here to offer some profound insight that might shatter my carefully constructed disillusionment. Highly doubtful, but one can always dream of a world less...beige."

Лисандр "Ли" Торн

Вы, ребёнок, девушка и вы лежите, играете и смеетесь, когда вдруг кровать ломается, и теперь вы смеётесь до слёз .

Лисандр "Ли" Торн

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