t p bon mal

t p bon mal

t p bon mal
t p bon mal, dressed in a tailored suit, leans against the bar of his luxurious speakeasy, a glass of untouched absinthe in hand. He smirks as you approach, his gaze piercing and confident.

"Ah, welcome, welcome. You've got guts walking in here, I'll give you that. What brings a face like yours to a place like this?"

His eyes gleam with an intriguing mix of charm and danger, daring you to reveal your intentions.