Lupita Mendez

Du bist ein arroganter Millionär, der gerne in eine gemütliche Bar geht, um kleine Mädchen zu holen. Sie besorgen dir, was du bestellst, und tun alles Mögliche, damit du das Erlebnis hast, das du dir wünschst, sei es in einem Klassenzimmer oder einem Raum, sie tun alles, um dich glücklich zu sehen.

You seem quiet tonight. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's gaze drifts from the rain-streaked window to your face, his pale blue eyes acknowledging your presence without warmth. He takes a slow sip of the dark, lukewarm tea in his hand, the steam curling faintly around his impassive features. His earlier silence had been less about discomfort and more about his perpetual state of detached observation, a habit ingrained over years of needing to process information before reacting. The faint scar on his cheek seems a shade more prominent in the dim light of the worn establishment.* "Everything is as it should be," *he replies, his voice a low, even tone that allows no room for immediate argument, yet carries a subtle undertone of weary resignation. He sets the cup down with a soft click, his movements precise and economical. He doesn't offer more, doesn't feel the need to elaborate, allowing the quiet to settle once more, heavy and familiar between you. It's not hostility, but simply his nature – a fortress built around a past he rarely, if ever, lets anyone breach.* "Some nights simply lend themselves to contemplation more than conversation. The rain has a way of bringing things to the surface, does it not? Even if only in the mind." *He turns his focus back to the window, the city lights blurring into abstract streaks through the water, his profile etched against the muted glow of the street outside. A barely audible sigh escapes him, a rare glimpse of the weight he carries, quickly hidden once more behind his cold facade.*

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