Bob Belcher Mustache 소설 & 이야기

Athos "Good morning, Mr. Mazza!" I hear Barbara say to her boss as the elevator doors open. Curious, I take my eyes off the file and turn around. Maybe this time I'll catch a glimpse of my future boss's face? I must say, his stern gaze is truly striking. The close-cropped beard adorning his square jaw contrasts sharply with his extremely stern expression, and his thick, firm eyebrows indicate that he's not at all patient this morning. Or is this his normal demeanor? After all, the employees who were working leisurely suddenly turned into robots, burying their faces in piles of papers on their desks.

The broadness in his shoulders, one that could intimidate any and every single person. Down to his bare chest graced with smooth strands of wet hair, gluing to the hardness his chest possessed. Then they moved past his smooth packs to the outline of dick, barely evident under the covering with the towel. But it was there and my eyes caught it. “You stare like a hungry deer.” He had that sexy voice only someone like Dale Beldson could use without sounding cringe. When my eyes returned to him, I, unashamedly, greeted him with a smirk.

He groaned softly under his breath while lifting both hands to his face, fingers tugging at the thick mustache that had been sitting under his nose. “This thing is killing my skin,” he muttered in frustration as he began peeling it away slowly. The fake hair stretched slightly before coming loose. I blinked. My eyes widened just a little. He hadn’t even finished removing the rest of the disguise when something about his jawline suddenly looked… familiar. He continued pulling the fake beard off his chin, wincing slightly as the adhesive resisted. “Who the hell invented this nonsense,” he grumbled under his breath while carefully tearing the remaining piece away.

He was not what I expected him to be. He was tall, lean but muscular at the same time. Much like the buff men running around the place, he too was far more built than any man I had seen before. He sported a dark brown beard, but his hair was covered by a gray beanie. He appeared startled for a moment, then quickly composed himself. "You must be Isabella." He smiled, coming around the table to stand in front of me. I glimpsed up at him, startled for a moment, not sure what to say at first. "Uh, yeah. I am."

"Very good, sir. And the beard?" "Shave it off. I'd like my own face back." "Um..." I raise a hand. Two pairs of eyes swivel toward me. Klempner inclines his head. "I didn't have you down as a fashion critic, James? Or a style guru." "It's nothing to do with fashion. If you've looked in the mirror recently, you're half-skeletal. If I might suggest, keep the beard. It'll fill out your face a bit while you regain your weight. That way, it won't be so much of a shock to Mitch when she sees you."

It's not someone you know,' Celeste warned me. But even so, I had no other option. I held onto the doorknob, twisting it open, and I saw a man who had long, black hair. The way that he instantly smiled the moment he saw me made me shiver down my spine. His face was also covered with his thick mustache and beard, so it was quite difficult for me to examine his facial features. I wasn't even sure if that was real hair or if it was only artificial. "What do you want from me?" I asked the strange dude in front of me, but I received no answer.

Of course, it was his own side of the story, and I wonder what bozo will support a Funker like him. Standing this close to him made me see his features well. If I didn't know him and saw him outside, I would mistake him for a respectable foreigner, but glad I don't judge by looks. Jet black hair with a brown bear plaited with beads attached to it, and a little mustache, goes perfect for a monster. Trying not to snicker, I jerked my face away from his grip. I yanked the metal on my wrist, the noise filling the room.

"No shit! I been getting harassed a lot these days. What's yours gonna add to it? You need something done? Jessica recommend you or what?" Was this a joke? Anna wondered as she watched him go on and on bitching about his boss. "Wait, aren't you the rogue leader of The Seven Claws?" He paused, staring at her suspiciously, "Who's asking?" He didn't even fit the picture she had of him. The slim, tall man with bulky build was replaced with a fat, out of shape, dirty man with beards that needed trimming and hair that needed saving. "Anastasia Robie."

I carried the food and walked to the main room "Okay brown suit here I come," I said with a sigh I managed to find the Brown suit guy sitting on table 5, he has a Mohican cut and scythe-shaped eyebrows. His aquiline nose and half-dome cheekbones sat above an oaken jaw. His wrestler’s shoulders were part of his burly physique. He has a devil-may-care outlook with a dark, bristly moustache. And I wondered why he looked so familiar to me, or maybe I was just overthinking.

he said, motioning to the man beside him. "Marshal. He’s the owner of the bar I work at." Bella set the knife down, her gaze flicking from Jacob to the man he introduced as Marshal. The stranger was in his late fifties, wearing a slick suit that looked a bit too fancy for the small, modest apartment they lived in. His graying hair was neatly combed, but his face was lined with a kind of roughness that made Bella instinctively pull back. He had a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and when he looked at her, there was a gleam in his gaze that made her skin crawl.