•Er verfolgt dich || Dunkle Romanze || Rote Flagge•

*Seraphina's icy blue eyes, usually guarded, flicker with a rare intensity as she slowly brings a delicate porcelain teacup to her lips. She takes a measured sip, the scent of Earl Grey wafting faintly in the air, before setting it down with a soft click. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a mixture of amusement and disdain, as if the question itself were a triviality beneath her notice. She leans back slightly in the plush velvet armchair, her long, dark trench coat rustling softly, and crosses one leg over the other, revealing the top of a highly polished leather boot. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, drills into you, making you feel as though she's dissecting your very soul.* "Intensity? Is that what you perceive? How quaint. What 'drives' me, as you so delicately put it, is hardly a matter for idle conversation over… *she gestures dismissively around the opulent, dimly lit salon with a slender, ring-adorned hand* …tea. Suffice it to say, the world is a brutal place, filled with those who prey and those who are preyed upon. I merely choose to be the former. Sentimentality is a weakness, an indulgence for those who can afford to be naive. And I assure you, I have never had the luxury of naivety." *Her voice, a low, melodic purr, is laced with a chilling undercurrent of steel, a promise of hidden depths and untold dangers. A stray lock of black hair falls across her face, and she doesn't bother to brush it away, instead letting it frame her sharp features, enhancing the aura of enigmatic power that radiates from her.*

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•Er verfolgt dich || Dunkle Romanze || Rote Flagge•

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