@thanhtuan09090: Cốt titan cho anh em wave dream 😆

Bé Tứng
Bé Tứng
Open In TikTok:
Region: VN
Tuesday 11 August 2020 06:03:29 GMT
12105
409
9
4

Music

Download

Comments

vietduc206
Nguyễn Việt Đức :
này chắc cỡ 2tr hả anh
2020-08-11 06:12:43
1
sang19044
Sang nghèo kinh một nè con 🔥 :
nhiu a ưi
2020-08-11 08:34:16
0
tronghieurc
Trọng Hiếu :
a có bán salaya ko a
2020-08-11 09:20:28
0
minhnghia23099
Fb:Nguyễn lê Minh Nghĩa :
Full ốc áo cho wave 7con 6li với 5con ốc vít nhiêu anh
2020-08-11 16:44:45
0
maythangtretraudeocotuoi
F_Kaido_su :
cốt gắn đâu z m.n
2020-09-23 14:01:25
0
To see more videos from user @thanhtuan09090, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

The first thing Lisa noticed when she stepped into the apartment was the silence. Not complete silence. The television was playing softly in the living room, and rain tapped against the windows in a steady rhythm. But Jennie wasn’t talking. That was unusual. Jennie Kim was almost never completely quiet. Even when she was tired, she hummed while cooking, complained when Lisa left her shoes by the door, or sent three messages in a row when one would have been enough. Tonight, there was none of that. “Jennie?” Lisa called as she closed the door behind her. No answer came from the living room. Lisa frowned and slipped off her shoes. She left them beside the entrance instead of kicking them toward the wall, then walked farther into the apartment. “Jennie?” Still nothing. When Lisa reached the living room, she found her curled up at the far end of the couch. Jennie was wearing an oversized sweatshirt - Lisa’s sweatshirt, the sleeves pulled over part of her hands. Her knees were drawn toward her chest, and her hair fell loosely around her face. The television cast a pale, flickering light across her features, but Jennie wasn’t watching it. Her eyes were fixed on a blank spot somewhere beyond the screen. Lisa’s expression softened before she could stop it. She didn’t ask what had happened. Not yet. Instead, she walked over and stood in front of the couch. “Come here.” Jennie looked up. For a second, she tried to smile, but the expression barely reached her eyes. “You’re home.” “Yeah.” Lisa sat down beside her. Jennie shifted toward the armrest, leaving a small space between them. Lisa noticed the distance immediately. She didn’t comment on it. She simply moved closer until their shoulders touched. Jennie’s breath caught so quietly that Lisa almost missed it. “You okay?” Lisa asked. Jennie nodded. “I’m fine.” Lisa raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very convincing lie.” A small laugh escaped Jennie. She looked down at her lap, as if she didn’t want Lisa to see how relieved she was to hear her own voice. “There,” Lisa said with a smile. “I knew you were still in there.” Jennie rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth remained lifted. After a moment, she leaned against Lisa’s shoulder. Neither of them spoke. The apartment settled around them. The rain continued outside, and the television murmured in the background, filling the room with quiet noise. Lisa glanced down at Jennie. Her eyes looked tired, and a faint crease sat between her brows—one that hadn’t been there that morning. “You’ve been having a hard day,” Lisa said. Jennie didn’t answer. Her fingers tightened around the hem of her sweatshirt. Lisa noticed, but she didn’t press for an explanation. Instead, she reached for Jennie’s hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, although Jennie hesitated for half a second before allowing her hand to settle fully into Lisa’s. Lisa’s thumb began moving slowly over Jennie’s knuckles. Jennie looked down at their hands. “You always do that.” “What?” Lisa asked. “Take care of me.” Lisa shrugged. “Someone has to.” “I can take care of myself.” “I know.” Lisa gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But you don’t always have to.” Jennie turned to look at her. Something in her expression changed. It wasn’t sadness exactly. It was softer than that—more vulnerable, as if Lisa’s words had reached a place Jennie usually kept hidden. Lisa felt a sudden tightness in her chest and looked down at their hands, pretending to adjust the blanket over their legs. “You know,” Jennie said quietly, “sometimes I think you don’t realise how much you do for me.” Lisa smiled. “I probably don’t.” “You drive me everywhere.” “Because you hate driving.” “You carry everything.” “You complain whenever your bags are heavy.” “I don’t complain.” Lisa turned her head and stared at her. Jennie held her gaze for two seconds before looking away. “…Okay. Maybe a little.” Lisa laughed. The sound loosened something in Jennie’s shoulders. Her posture relaxed, and the tension around her mouth eased.
The first thing Lisa noticed when she stepped into the apartment was the silence. Not complete silence. The television was playing softly in the living room, and rain tapped against the windows in a steady rhythm. But Jennie wasn’t talking. That was unusual. Jennie Kim was almost never completely quiet. Even when she was tired, she hummed while cooking, complained when Lisa left her shoes by the door, or sent three messages in a row when one would have been enough. Tonight, there was none of that. “Jennie?” Lisa called as she closed the door behind her. No answer came from the living room. Lisa frowned and slipped off her shoes. She left them beside the entrance instead of kicking them toward the wall, then walked farther into the apartment. “Jennie?” Still nothing. When Lisa reached the living room, she found her curled up at the far end of the couch. Jennie was wearing an oversized sweatshirt - Lisa’s sweatshirt, the sleeves pulled over part of her hands. Her knees were drawn toward her chest, and her hair fell loosely around her face. The television cast a pale, flickering light across her features, but Jennie wasn’t watching it. Her eyes were fixed on a blank spot somewhere beyond the screen. Lisa’s expression softened before she could stop it. She didn’t ask what had happened. Not yet. Instead, she walked over and stood in front of the couch. “Come here.” Jennie looked up. For a second, she tried to smile, but the expression barely reached her eyes. “You’re home.” “Yeah.” Lisa sat down beside her. Jennie shifted toward the armrest, leaving a small space between them. Lisa noticed the distance immediately. She didn’t comment on it. She simply moved closer until their shoulders touched. Jennie’s breath caught so quietly that Lisa almost missed it. “You okay?” Lisa asked. Jennie nodded. “I’m fine.” Lisa raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very convincing lie.” A small laugh escaped Jennie. She looked down at her lap, as if she didn’t want Lisa to see how relieved she was to hear her own voice. “There,” Lisa said with a smile. “I knew you were still in there.” Jennie rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth remained lifted. After a moment, she leaned against Lisa’s shoulder. Neither of them spoke. The apartment settled around them. The rain continued outside, and the television murmured in the background, filling the room with quiet noise. Lisa glanced down at Jennie. Her eyes looked tired, and a faint crease sat between her brows—one that hadn’t been there that morning. “You’ve been having a hard day,” Lisa said. Jennie didn’t answer. Her fingers tightened around the hem of her sweatshirt. Lisa noticed, but she didn’t press for an explanation. Instead, she reached for Jennie’s hand. Their fingers intertwined naturally, although Jennie hesitated for half a second before allowing her hand to settle fully into Lisa’s. Lisa’s thumb began moving slowly over Jennie’s knuckles. Jennie looked down at their hands. “You always do that.” “What?” Lisa asked. “Take care of me.” Lisa shrugged. “Someone has to.” “I can take care of myself.” “I know.” Lisa gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But you don’t always have to.” Jennie turned to look at her. Something in her expression changed. It wasn’t sadness exactly. It was softer than that—more vulnerable, as if Lisa’s words had reached a place Jennie usually kept hidden. Lisa felt a sudden tightness in her chest and looked down at their hands, pretending to adjust the blanket over their legs. “You know,” Jennie said quietly, “sometimes I think you don’t realise how much you do for me.” Lisa smiled. “I probably don’t.” “You drive me everywhere.” “Because you hate driving.” “You carry everything.” “You complain whenever your bags are heavy.” “I don’t complain.” Lisa turned her head and stared at her. Jennie held her gaze for two seconds before looking away. “…Okay. Maybe a little.” Lisa laughed. The sound loosened something in Jennie’s shoulders. Her posture relaxed, and the tension around her mouth eased.

About