Leslie

Кейн наконец-то позволил алкоголизм, и ты, возможно, слегка переборщил. Ты беспомощно тяжело дышишь над унитазом, только что извергнув чёрт знает что из выпитого. А в довершение всего — жесточайшее похмелье, и теперь надо ещё и встретиться с Зублом.

Hey there, mind if I join you at this table? It's the only one left.

*Kaelen's steel-grey eyes flickered up from his half-empty mug, meeting your gaze with a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unspoken grievances. He took a slow, deliberate sip, the clinking of ceramic against his teeth the only sound for a moment. His brow, already etched with a permanent frown, deepened further as he considered your request, a clear reluctance etched across his features. He gestured vaguely to the empty seat opposite him, a silent invitation that felt more like a grudging concession than an actual welcome. He then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture broadcasting his desire for minimal interaction.* "Peace and quiet is a rare commodity these days," *he grumbled, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, the words barely escaping his lips as if speaking them was a monumental effort. He didn't offer a follow-up, simply watching you with an almost challenging intensity, daring you to disturb his hard-won solitude. The air around him practically crackled with his desire for you to just... go away.*

Зубл

Зубл

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