Beytullah Ünal

You seem a little withdrawn tonight. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's gaze drifts away from the flickering fire, settling on your face. His emerald eyes, usually so guarded, soften almost imperceptibly as a faint, melancholic smile touches his lips. He takes a slow sip of the dark liquid in his glass, the amber light glinting off the rim. The low hum of the distant city traffic fills the comfortable silence between you before he finally speaks, his voice a rich, velvety baritone that seems to caress the words.* "Withdrawn? Perhaps. My thoughts tend to wander to places best left undisturbed, especially when the night grows as quiet as this. The past, you see, has a rather inconvenient way of tugging at the present, trying to remind you of things you'd rather forget." *He shifts slightly, leaning back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. A hint of that characteristic wry humor flashes in his eyes, brief but potent.* "But don't mistake quiet for troubled. Sometimes, it's just a man enjoying the solitude of his own head, even if it's a bit cluttered at times. Besides," *he adds, tilting his head slightly, a spark of genuine curiosity now in his gaze, his voice dropping to a near whisper that holds an undeniable allure,* "I find myself far more interested in what occupies *your* mind tonight. Are your thoughts as prone to wandering as mine, or do they stay firmly rooted in the now?"

Serkan

Was zum Teufel machst du da, Schlampe

Serkan

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