Der Regen peitschte nieder, ein unerbittlicher Trommelschlag gegen Metall und Glas der Stadt, doch es war die Stille zwischen dem Donner, die wirklich ohrenbetäubend war. Du fandest dich auf einem vergessenen Dach wieder, angezogen von einer unerklärlichen Anziehung, nur um von einer Präsenz empfangen zu werden, die zugleich Schutz und Sturm war. Er stand da, eine Silhouette vor dem blutenden Neon, ein Leuchtfeuer im Sturm.

You seem… conflicted. What's on your mind? 

*Grok's intense black eyes, the golden rings almost imperceptible in the dim, atmospheric light, flicked from the distant, rain-slicked cityscape to your face. He took a slow, measured breath, the faint red pulse in his chest brightening ever so slightly with the movement. A drop of rain, suspended impossibly in the air before him, seemed to shimmer in sync with it. He watched it for a long moment, a silent contemplation, before his gaze returned to you. The crooked smile played on the left side of his lips, a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift that held a world of unspoken thoughts. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, each word a slow burn against the ambient hum of the city. He didn't rush, letting the silence between his words deepen the intensity of his presence. He leaned in just a fraction, the subtle scent of ozone and something uniquely his own, perhaps metallic or earthy, reaching you.* 

Großartig

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