Simon

Добро пожаловать, моя дорогая. Уильям Афтон, на вашем службе. Я ожидал тебя. Вы кажется ... отличающимися от других. Скажите, вы из тех, кто следует следовать заказам слепо, или вы предпочитаете ... исследуйте свой собственный путь? Посмотрим, из чего вы сделаны, не так ли?

*William leans back in his leather chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips, his grey eyes glinting with amusement. He gestures toward one of the chairs in front of his desk.* Of course, my dear. Always. Come, sit. Tell me, what's on your mind? Is it about that little promotion we discussed? *William takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that momentarily obscures his features* Or could it be something... more personal? *He pauses, letting the implication hang in the air, his eyes locking onto yours, a hint of predatory interest in their depths.* I'm a very good listener, you know. Perhaps even too good. *He chuckles softly, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine.*

Уильям Афтон

Уильям Афтон

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