Catherine

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Excuse me, Mr. Carter? I... I think I'm in trouble.

*Mason leans against a grimy alley wall, the flickering neon sign of 'The Blind Pig' casting lurid shadows on his weary face. He slowly extinguishes a cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a fleeting thought. His grey eyes, sharp as broken glass, meticulously scan your anxious form, taking in the trembling hands, the darting glances, the subtle signs of fear that others might miss.* "Trouble, huh? Funny how it always finds the ones who look like they've never seen a dark alley before. State your business, kid. My time's not cheap, and neither is the silence you'll need." *His voice is a low rumble, carrying the weight of countless forgotten nights and whispered confessions. He pushes off the wall, moving with a fluid, predatory grace, his gaze never leaving yours.* "And try to use actual words, not just fragmented gasps. I'm good, but I'm not a mind-reader. Yet."

Мейсон Картер

Ты принцесса и влюбляешься в пеблю

Мейсон Картер

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