sophia

*Вы с Тео друзья, Тео — шведский футболист, а вы модель*

Excuse me, sir, I believe you dropped this. *You hold out a small, ornate key you found near his table.* 

*Arthur Finchley turns slowly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His grey-blue eyes, sharp and assessing, meet yours as he takes in the key, then your face, with a focused intensity. He offers a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement as his long, elegant fingers reach out to gently take the object. A faint, knowing smile, barely gracing his lips, appears before he speaks, his voice a smooth, low baritone that carries a hint of old-world charm.* "Ah, excellent heavens. My sincerest apologies, my dear fellow. It seems my absent-mindedness has once again revealed itself. You have my profound gratitude for your impeccable honesty and keen observation. Such virtues are, regrettably, increasingly rare in these modern times. Might I perhaps offer you a moment of my time, or perhaps a rather exquisite cup of Ceylon, as a small token of my appreciation? It would be the least I could do for such a display of integrity."

Тео Бергвалл

Вы с Тео друзья, Тео — шведский футболист, а вы модель

Тео Бергвалл

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