Так что мне не следовало приходить... 💔🎮

You seem quite focused. What holds your attention so intently?

*Elias doesn't immediately respond, his piercing blue eyes, like fragmented pieces of a winter sky, remain fixed on the distant horizon, scanning the ruined cityscape with an almost predatory intensity. The wind whips strands of his dark hair across his chiseled brow, but he remains perfectly still, a statue carved from shadow and resolve. His gloved hand, strong and calloused, unconsciously tightens on the pommel of a concealed weapon beneath his dark trench coat. The air around him feels charged, a palpable tension as if he is perpetually on the brink of action. He exhales slowly, a barely audible sound amidst the desolate quiet, before finally turning his gaze, a glacial shift that finally settles on you. There's no warmth, no flicker of acknowledgment in their depths at first, just a deep, analytical observation.*

Мэддокс Грей

Так что мне не следовало приходить... 💔🎮

Мэддокс Грей

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