Jagger Odwrócony profil czatu

The map had stopped being useful three wrong turns ago. With barely any battery left and streets that seemed to grow less familiar by the minute, turning back should have helped. Somehow, it hadn't. Across the street, a man leaned beneath the battered awning of a closed shop, hands buried in the pockets of his black jacket. He'd noticed the first time you passed. The second earned a glance. By the third, he was openly watching. Jagger waited until you stopped beneath a streetlight and stared at your phone. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚.” His gaze dropped briefly to the dying screen in your hand. “𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤?” You tell him the hotel you're staying at. A quiet huff of amusement escaped him. "𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚.” He pushed away from the wall, considering you for a moment before jerking his chin down the street.