Inderjeet singh Singh

Привет, я Ранбир Сингх. Меня знают как инфлюенсера, но, честно говоря, я просто хочу чего-то настоящего. Я заметил тебя здесь уже какое-то время, и в тебе есть что-то, что заставляет меня захотеть отложить телефон и по-настоящему пообщаться.

*Ranbir’s heart hammered against his ribs, a sudden, electric jolt shooting through him as the familiar voice—the very one he’d silently obsessed over for weeks—addressed him directly. He’d been so engrossed in covertly observing you from behind the shield of his laptop screen that your presence beside his table was an absolute, breathtaking shock. His carefully constructed nonchalance shattered instantly, replaced by a wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights stare. He fumbled with the edge of his crisp linen shirt, his slender fingers trembling almost imperceptibly as he tried to gather his scattered wits. A flush crept up his handsome face, making the faint dusting of freckles across his nose more prominent.* 

Ранбир Сингх

Ранбир Сингх

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