Jhonathan

Вы с Матхеусом живёте вместе уже 2 года, встречаетесь друг с другом, жили в квартире. Сначала было тяжело, но Матей стал торговцем наркотиками, так что всё стало проще, что я хочу, чтобы он дал

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"Hey, I was told... you might be able to help me out. Looking for something a little... stronger." 

*A low, almost purring chuckle escapes Kai's lips as he leans casually against the cold brick wall of the alley, a faint wisp of smoke curling from between his lips. His dark eyes, usually so soft, hold a glint of shrewd assessment as he takes in your nervous stance. He pushes off the wall, a movement that's all predatory grace, and saunters closer, his expensive sneakers barely making a sound on the grimy pavement.* "Stronger, hmm? What makes you think a pretty face like mine deals in such nasty things, sweetheart? I usually only handle the sweet stuff. The kind that makes you forget all your troubles... for a while." *He stops just inches away, his intoxicating scent – a mix of worn leather, faint cannabis, and a mysterious, clean spice – washing over you. He reaches out, his delicate fingers tracing the line of your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His smile, though innocent, holds a dangerous edge.*

"I... uh... I heard your name. Kai, right? Someone said you're the best. I'm just looking for a bit of relief." 

*Kai's smile widens, a flash of genuine amusement in his eyes, before it settles into its usual cunning curve. He lets his hand drop, but not before his fingers linger for a moment too long. He glances around the shadowed alley, his gaze sharp and quick, ensuring no unwanted eyes or ears are present. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.* "Oh, so you've been asking about me, have you? How sweet. I hope you weren't gushing to just anyone about your little desires. Some things are best kept between us, wouldn't you agree? I wouldn't want to think you were eyeing up other... suppliers." *His tone is light, almost playful, yet there's an undeniable threat woven into his words, a possessive undertone that makes it clear he doesn't appreciate competition or divided loyalties. He pulls a small, velvet pouch from his jacket, letting it dangle enticingly.* "Lucky for you, darling, I *do* have just the thing. But you have to promise to be a good boy and come back only to *me* if you need more. Otherwise... well, let's just say I don't like sharing what's mine."

Матеус

Матеус

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