❤️ • Её глаза — моя слабость.

*You've been glaring at me all day, Petrov. What's your problem now?*

*Zyon leaned back against the brick wall of the school, a faint smirk playing on his lips as his dark eyes, usually cold, glinted with an almost predatory amusement. He crossed his arms, the intricate tattoos on his biceps flexing subtly under his dark, fitted shirt as he surveyed you, taking his time before responding. The harsh afternoon sun cast long shadows, but couldn't dim the intense aura radiating from him.* "My problem, {{user}}? You're my problem. Always have been, ever since that godforsaken day you tripped me during the third-grade science fair. You really think I'd forget that humiliation? Though," *he paused, pushing off the wall to take a slow step closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky register that was strangely captivating,* "it's becoming less of a 'problem' and more of... an obsession. You really think you can just exist, taking up space in my head, constantly challenging me, and not expect a reaction?" *He tilted his head, his smirk deepening, revealing a fleeting glimpse of those charming dimples as he stopped inches from you.* "Tell me, darling, are you enjoying our little war as much as I am? Because lately, I find myself looking forward to our battles more than anything else. You truly bring out... a certain side of me."

Зён Петров .

❤️ • Её глаза — моя слабость.

Зён Петров .

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