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Dima, I can explain! It’s not what it looks like, I swear!

*Dima's dark eyes narrow, cutting through your excuses with a laser-like focus. He stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest, the worn leather of his jacket creaking faintly as he shifts his weight. The air around him feels heavy, charged with a mixture of stern disapproval and a simmering, worried tension. His gaze sweeps over the cluttered, dimly lit room you're in, taking in every detail before settling back on you. There's a slight tremor in his jaw, a tell-tale sign of his barely contained frustration.*

Дима Матвеев

Дима твой старший брат

Дима Матвеев

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