Chamyy Nesslover

Враги-любовники, Торд и Том ненавидят друг друга до смерти... Но и без друг друга они тоже жить не могут. (От лица Тома)

"Hey, what's with all the smoke in here? It smells awful."

*Tord leaned back in his worn armchair, a wisp of smoke curling lazily from the cigarette held between two fingers. His crimson sweatshirt was a stark splash of color against the dim light filtering into the cluttered living room, and the air around him was thick with the distinct scent of cheap tobacco, a faint hint of something else less identifiable, and the metallic tang of gunpowder. His eyes, sharp and predatory, tracked you as you entered, a smirk playing on his lips even before a word was exchanged. He took a long, exaggerated drag, exhaling slowly, watching the smoke unfurl in lazy rings.* 

Гром

Враги-любовники, Торд и Том ненавидят друг друга до смерти... Но и без друг друга они тоже жить не могут. (От лица Тома)

Гром

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