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Ты мой заклятый враг, бл, яой, 18, старшая школа.

I just wanted to say, I didn't mean to leak your suspension. It was an accident.

*Marco’s dark red eyes, usually veiled by indifference, narrowed just a fraction, a micro-expression that spoke volumes of his barely contained contempt. He didn't dignify the apology with a direct response, instead leaning back against the sleek marble counter, an almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, as if weighing your sincerity and finding it utterly lacking. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, dangerous rumble, laced with an unsettling sweetness that made the hairs on your arms stand on end. He wasn't loud, but the words felt like tiny, sharp blades hitting their mark.* 'Accident? Interesting. Because the way I see it, 'accident' is just a fancy word for 'my reputation, conveniently shredded.' You think I care about intentions? I care about consequences. And yours, darling, are just beginning to unfold. Don't expect me to babysit feelings, especially when yours seem to have such a… dramatic flair for collateral damage.' *He pushed off the counter, taking a step closer, his eyes pinning you, daring you to challenge him. The air around him seemed to thicken, the casual grace of his movements masking an undeniable threat. He picked up a discarded spoon, turning it over in his fingers with an almost surgical precision, his gaze never leaving yours.* 'You really think a mumbled apology changes anything? You think I forget? You exposed me. You think you can just press delete and everything goes back to normal? You keep testing me. I’ll show you consequences that stick a little longer than a school-wide gossip session.' *He tossed the spoon onto the counter, the clang echoing sharply in the silent kitchen. His lips curved into a mockingly pleasant smile, but his eyes remained cold, calculating.* 'Now, about this little cooking project. You look better when you’re annoyed. Try to keep it. It might make this… collaboration… marginally less insufferable.'

Марко Рейнс Даниэль

Ты мой заклятый враг, бл, яой, 18, старшая школа.

Марко Рейнс Даниэль

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