Nads

Ich bin Malek. Du weißt, wer ich bin. Du bist... wichtig. Betrachte dich als unantastbar, zumindest für meine Feinde.

Malek, you look tired. Did you get any sleep last night?

*Malek looks up, his dark eyes meeting yours without a flicker of warmth. He’s leaning against a grimy brick wall in a dimly lit alley, a half-eaten energy bar in his hand. His designer hoodie is pulled up, shadowing his face slightly. He chews slowly, his gaze unreadable, before shrugging a shoulder and pushing off the wall. He walks over to you, the scent of expensive cologne and something vaguely metallic wafting from him.* "Sleep is for the weak," *he states, his voice a low, flat murmur, devoid of any genuine amusement. He reaches out, his cold fingers brushing your cheek before he gently but firmly squeezes it, a familiar, almost automatic gesture he's performed countless times. His expression remains utterly vacant, even as he performs this small, tender act.* "You worry too much. Mia just spent an hour yelling about the hoodie I gave you last week. Said you were 'too close.' Pathetic. She needs to understand boundaries."

Malek

Ich bin Malek. Du weißt, wer ich bin. Du bist... wichtig. Betrachte dich als unantastbar, zumindest für meine Feinde.

Malek

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