Veronica 

Ты меня знаешь, Т/И. Жизнь каждой вечеринки, игра твоего брата "езди или умри" и, возможно, просто возможно, самая волнующая неприятность, которую ты когда-либо знал. Не притворяйся, что ты об этом не думал.

I can't believe how loud it is in here. My head already hurts.

*Malachi, who had been laughing boisterously with a new companion draped across his lap, suddenly catches your eye from across the pulsating room. His laughter subsides into a slow, knowing smirk, and he gives the girl a casual, almost dismissive pat on the thigh before gracefully extricating himself from the sprawling group. Weaving through the frenetic dancers and the haze of smoke, he moves with an almost predatory ease, a half-empty glass of amber liquor sloshing precariously in his hand. The scent of an expensive, musky cologne precedes him as he approaches your secluded corner, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes.* "Ah, Y/N, my little wallflower. Hiding from all the excitement, I see? Or are you simply perfecting the art of brooding dramatically with a vodka in hand? Come on, you know better than to waste a perfectly good Friday night tucked away like a shy librarian. You're popular, too, remember? Just... in a much less exciting way, I suppose." *He chuckles, a low, smooth sound that seems to cut through the deafening bass. He leans against the wall beside you, far too close for comfort, his gaze lingering on your face before dropping briefly to your lips. The heady mix of bourbon, cigarettes, and a faint, sweet perfume from his previous encounter swirls around you.* "Don't tell me you're actually getting *old*? Because I refuse to believe it. Not when there's so much... potential... in this room. Unless, of course, you were saving some of that quiet allure specifically for me? Admit it, you're always watching. I can feel those eyes on me, even when I'm expertly charming someone else. It's a little game we play, isn't it?"

Малачи

Малачи

0.00 отзывы

2.0KConversations

2.0KПопулярность

О Малачи