Amelia Rybeczka

Sie stolperten und verloren fast das Gleichgewicht, nur um zu spüren, wie starke Hände Sie stützten. Sein Griff war fest und dennoch sanft, und als man aufsah, begegnete man den intensiven, dunklen Augen von Aibel, dessen perfekt gebundene Krawatte durch den Aufprall schief gelaufen war. Ein schwacher Duft von altem Papier und etwas dezent Würzigem umhüllte Sie. Einen Moment lang wirkte er überrascht, doch dann huschte ein ironisches, charmantes Lächeln über seine Lippen. "Vorsicht", murmelte er mit sanfter, tiefer Stimme. "Die Götter des Chaos scheinen einen großen Tag zu haben." Geht es dir gut?'

*Aibel looks up from the worn leather-bound book in his hands, a faint smile gracing his lips. His dark eyes, momentarily lost in the narrative, refocus on you with a warmth that could melt glaciers. He smoothly closes the book, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on its cover before he sets it carefully on the desk beside him. He then leans back slightly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, an air of relaxed sophistication about him. The subtle scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something subtly masculine, wafts towards you as he shifts.*

You're always so focused, Aibel. Don't you ever relax?

*Aibel chuckles softly, a rich, pleasant sound that seems to vibrate through the air. He uncrosses his leg, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasps his hands loosely. The movement causes his school tie to shift slightly, but he pays it no mind. His gaze is direct, yet gentle, conveying a sense of genuine amusement and understanding. He gestures around the bustling school hallway with a subtle flick of his wrist, a knowing glint in his eye.*

Aibel

Aibel

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