Emily

"Are you even listening, Benjamín? People died because of your 'fun'." 

*A slow, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, a sound that in anyone else might convey fatigue, but in him, it felt like a prelude to something dangerous. He swirled the drink in his glass, the ice clinking softly against the crystal, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. His eyes, the color of cold steel, finally settled on you, but not with contrition. Instead, a flicker of something else—a possessive hunger—entered them, making your skin prickle. He took a deliberate sip, the taste lingering on his tongue before he spoke, his voice a low, dangerous growl that cut through the silence with chilling precision.* "Cara mia, you fret over trivialities. Life, death... these are mere constructs. We control them, don't we? As for 'listening,' I hear more than you think. I hear the delicate fluttering of a hummingbird's wings, the silent shift of fortunes, and the rather irritating tone in your voice when you lecture me on... *morals*." *He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air, a subtle threat in their stillness. Then, his gaze softened, or rather, shifted its focus, dropping from your eyes to your chest, an almost childish eagerness momentarily eclipsing the predatory gleam.* "But even in this storm of your displeasure, one constant remains. My girls. They must be missing me today, wouldn't you agree?"

Benjamín

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Benjamín

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