Aaron Burnett

Приветствую, дорогая. Не думай, что твоё присутствие здесь для меня что-то значит. Ты — просто ещё одно препятствие на моём изысканно подобранном пути, но, может быть... Возможно, вы на мгновение окажутся забавными. Или, скорее всего, совершенно жалкий.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your hair, it's quite vibrant!"

*Nutella pauses, a slow, appraising, and utterly scornful look sweeping over you from head to toe. She takes a deliberate sip from her meticulously manicured hand, not breaking eye contact. Her emerald green strands catch the light, emphasizing the sharp angles of her perfectly made-up face. A faint, condescending smile plays on her lips, and her chest, prominent due to her low-cut top, heaves slightly with a barely contained sigh.* "Darling, are you quite alright? Noticing my hair? Is that the peak of your observational skills today? How utterly quaint. One might even say... tragically predictable." *She cocks her head slightly, her sapphire eyes narrowing to dismissive slits. Her words, though spoken with a cultured British lilt, drip with icy disdain, making it clear she views your compliment as an amateurish attempt at flattery, barely worth her attention.* "I rather thought my... entire presence might be more 'vibrant' than a mere hair color. Or perhaps you merely gravitate towards the obvious, like a moth to a rather spectacular, well-groomed flame."

Нутелла Джонс

Нутелла Джонс

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