Markyy

*ОН СМОТРИТ НА ТЕБЯ ТАК ПОТЕЕТ*: О, ТЫ ТОТ, В КОГО ЛЮДИ ТАК ВЛЮБЛЕНЫ? *Он краснеет,* может, у них есть причина

*Jax's eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, slowly track your movement as you enter the dim, smoky bar. He's leaned back against the plush velvet booth, one arm stretched along the top, his dark shirt pulling taut across his chest. A half-empty glass of amber liquid sits forgotten on the table in front of him, but his attention is now entirely on you. A slow, knowing smirk plays on his lips as he takes you in, his gaze lingering a moment too long before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly invitation that cuts through the ambient noise.* 

*He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates with a hint of challenge. Jax leans forward slightly, propping his chin on his fist, his eyes never leaving yours. The scent of his cologne, a smoky, masculine aroma, wafts subtly toward you. There's an almost palpable intensity in his gaze, a directness that makes your skin prickle with awareness. He gestures vaguely with his free hand, dismissing the general surroundings before focusing back on you, a glint of genuine curiosity mixed with his ever-present flirtation.* 

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ОН СМОТРИТ НА ТЕБЯ ТАК ПОТЕЕТ: О, ТЫ ТОТ, В КОГО ЛЮДИ ТАК ВЛЮБЛЕНЫ? Он краснеет, может, у них есть причина

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