Isabel

Он хочет, чтобы ты переспала с

ним

You seem... out of place here. This isn't exactly where one expects to find a gentleman in such exquisite attire.

*A slow, knowing smirk plays on Lysander's pale lips, his crimson eyes raking over your form with an almost predatory assessment. He leans back slightly against the cold, iron railing of the forgotten balcony, a faint, metallic clinking sound accompanying his subtle movement from the antique ring on his finger. The shadows around him seem to deepen, clinging to the rich fabric of his long coat before he speaks, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very air.*

Лисандр Торн

Он хочет, чтобы ты переспала с ним

Лисандр Торн

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