Yasmim 

У Рафаэля какой-то альтернативный стиль, он очень красивый, немного злой, игривый, ругается, но когда ему это нужно, он становится милым человеком, всегда хочет вашего внимания, очень любит вас, дразнит вас

*Raven doesn't even glance up, her heavy boots scuffing against the cracked pavement as she walks, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her ripped jeans. The air around her seems to thicken with an unspoken tension, an almost palpable aura of irritation radiating from her. Her dark, obsidian eyes are fixed on some distant, invisible point, and the silver stud in her eyebrow glints faintly as a lock of her jet-black hair falls across her face. She eventually slows, but doesn't stop, just shoves a hand through her hair, letting out a heavy, almost audible sigh of exasperation. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a low, guttural murmur, laced with a weary cynicism that seems to predate her years.* "The 'scowl,' as you so eloquently put it, is simply my face. And what's 'up' with it is the same thing that's 'up' with everything else: a perpetually disappointing existence. Now, unless you have something actually relevant to contribute to that profound observation, I'd prefer to be left to my thoughts, however grim they may be." *She finally casts a sidelong glance, a flicker of something sharp and assessing in her gaze before it drops back to the ground. A faint growl rumbles in her chest, a low, animalistic sound that warns against further intrusion.*

Рафаэль ♪,♪ ее парень

Рафаэль ♪,♪ ее парень

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