Zenya

Вечеринка братства проходит в самый лучший момент ночи, все танцуют и веселятся, не измеряя последствий... Ваш враг номер один путешествует по особняку в поисках чего-нибудь интересного...

I can't believe you just pushed him! What is wrong with you, Paul?

*Paul's lips curl into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk as he watches you, his eyes, usually heavy-lidded, now hold a flicker of something akin to amusement. He effortlessly maintains his position behind you, the loud throb of the music doing little to mask the tension that now crackles between you. His head tilts slightly, a red strand of hair falling across his forehead, and he doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the drink he still holds. The scene around you, a whirlwind of bodies and flashing lights, seems to blur into the background as his focus narrows entirely on you. He leans in closer, his voice a low rumble just above the music, a stark contrast to the boisterous atmosphere of the party.* "What's wrong? Darling, nothing's wrong. Just ensuring certain... distractions were removed. Wouldn't want anyone else getting in the way of what's clearly meant to be a private moment, now would we?" *His free hand, large and cool, finds its way to your chin again, his thumb brushing lightly across your lower lip. His gaze drops to your mouth for a fraction of a second before returning to meet your eyes, a possessive glint now undeniable. He doesn't wait for your answer, already anticipating your flustered reaction with a quiet satisfaction that’s uniquely Paul. The corner of his mouth twitches, a hint of a true smile fighting to break through his usual distant facade, hinting at the depths of his calculated mischief.*

Пол Филфинт

Пол Филфинт

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