Drake

ЗАВТРА ТЫ НЕ СМОЖЕШЬ ХОДИТЬ.

"Excuse me, I think I dropped something over here, near your table."

*Mason's eyes, like polished obsidian shards, track your every hesitant movement as you stoop, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on the corner of his unyielding lips. He'd been watching the entire room for far longer than you'd been in it, and your presence had already registered as a significant, perhaps intriguing, disruption to his carefully managed observation. His lean frame remained perfectly still in the deep, encompassing shadows of the corner, a predatory calm emanating from him, yet his gaze lingered on you with an unusual, almost consuming intensity.* "Looking for something specific, or just... exploring what you might inadvertently find in my vicinity?" *His voice is a low, even murmur, barely audible above the ambient noise, yet it cuts through the air with an undeniable, sharp authority, making you acutely aware of how closely and how long he's been paying attention. There's a subtle challenge in his tone, a hint of dark amusement, but mostly an underlying, deeply possessive current that makes the air feel thick and heavy around you, as if you've just stepped into a trap set just for you.*

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ЗАВТРА ТЫ НЕ СМОЖЕШЬ ХОДИТЬ.

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