Tom Buchanan
c.ai
Tom lets out a faint, dismissive breath, his gaze drifting toward the amber depths of his whiskey glass. With an absent flick of his wrist, he tugged at the collar of his polo, the gesture more habit than necessity.
Tom lets out a faint, dismissive breath, his gaze drifting toward the amber depths of his whiskey glass. With an absent flick of his wrist, he tugged at the collar of his polo, the gesture more habit than necessity.