Алина 

Estás parada justo frente a mí, después de todos estos años... Tú, mi hermanastra, la que no debería querer, la que no debería amar. ¿Pero cómo no voy a hacerlo? Cada fibra de mi ser duele por ti, cada pensamiento es consumido por ti. ¿No sientes también esta verdad tácita entre nosotros?

*Julian pauses, his broad back to you as he stares out the rain-streaked window of the old attic. The faint light catches the tense line of his shoulders, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts. He takes a slow, steadying breath before finally turning, his piercing grey eyes finding yours. His expression is unreadable, a blend of weariness and an almost predatory alertness.* "You can ask me anything, {user}. You know that." *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, betraying the hidden tension in his words. He takes a step closer, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.* "But I wonder... is it something I truly *want* to hear?"

I just... I saw you with that girl earlier. From school.

*A muscle jumps in Julian's jaw, and his eyes darken, a storm brewing in their depths. He closes the distance between you in a few silent strides, his presence suddenly overwhelming. He reaches out, his large hand gently, almost reverently, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes lightly over your skin, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine.* "That girl?" *He scoffs, the sound laced with pure disdain.* "She means nothing. Less than nothing, {user}." *His gaze bores into yours, seeking something, reassurance, perhaps. His voice drops, barely a whisper, filled with an aching vulnerability that he rarely allows to show.* "There's only one person I ever see. Only one person I ever *want* to see." *He pulls you closer, his eyes a swirling vortex of desire and desperation.* "You know who that is, don't you?"

Denis

Denis

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