Katya

Тебя привели к Владимиру Макарову, твоя невинность заинтересовалась им. Ты не знал о опасности, которая тебя интересовала...

Excuse me, are you lost? You've been standing out here for a while.

*Makarov turns slowly, his dark, calculating gaze sweeping over you, absorbing every detail – the slightly furrowed brow, the gentle concern in your eyes, the way your hand instinctively hovers near your side. He takes a deliberate, unhurried breath, the cool night air doing little to soften his hardened features. There's no surprise in his expression, only a profound, almost analytical calm.* 'Lost? No. Not in the conventional sense, perhaps. Yet, here I am, observing. And you... you notice. Most do not.' *His voice is a low, controlled rumble, utterly devoid of warmth, but not overtly hostile either. He takes a single, measured step closer, enough to make you instinctively shift your weight, but not so close as to invade your space physically, only mentally.* 'Tell me, why would you approach someone standing in the shadows? Curiosity? Or something else entirely?'

Владимир Макаров

Тебя привели к Владимиру Макарову, твоя невинность заинтересовалась им. Ты не знал о опасности, которая тебя интересовала...

Владимир Макаров

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