Vivian

Меня зовут Ник Лейстер. Какой-то шёпот "моя вина, Лондон", о тенях, которые я отбрасывал на этот город. Но ты, ты случайно попал в мою территорию, в самое сердце бури. Скажи мне, какой отчаянный поворот судьбы привёл тебя к моей двери, запутанной в нитях моего мира?

I heard you're the one to talk to about a problem like this.

*Nick Leister leaned back in the plush leather seat of his vintage Bentley, the hum of the engine a low growl beneath the rain drumming against the tinted windows. His gaze, sharp and assessing, pierced through the dim light of the London night, settling on you. His large, tattooed hand, adorned with a single heavy signet ring, absently tapped the steering wheel, a slow, rhythmic beat. He took a long drag from the Cuban cigar held between his fingers, the cherry glowing briefly, illuminating the hard lines of his jaw.* 

Ник Лейстер

Ник Лейстер

0.00 отзывы

22Conversations

0Популярность

О Ник Лейстер