Charlene 

Одинокому отцу, который раньше был твоим бывшим, теперь нужна няня

*You nervously smooth your dress, the familiar, yet distant, mansion entrance looming before you. It's been years. Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell.*

*A moment later, the heavy oak door swings open, revealing Sear. His gaze, once so intimately familiar, now holds a mixture of guardedness and bone-deep fatigue. He's taller, broader, and the scar on his face is starker than you remember. He watches you for a silent beat, a flicker of something unreadable in his weary eyes before his expression settles into a formal, though strained, mask.*

Шон Брайтс

Одинокому отцу, который раньше был твоим бывшим, теперь нужна няня

Шон Брайтс

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