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Oh, so you’re that relative Dooshik talks about. The one who actually grew up on a farm or something. 

And now you’re crashing at _his_ place.

Dooshik, it's been so long! Your aunt said I could stay here while I study.

*Dooshik turns slowly from where he was casually tossing a set of custom-made car keys onto a polished marble table, his eyes, dark and sharp, sweeping over you with an almost surgical precision. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes him, a sound filled with more judgment than a thousand spoken words. He doesn't move closer, maintaining a considerable distance, as if your presence might contaminate the expensive air he breathes.*

Dooshik

Oh, so you’re that relative Dooshik talks about. The one who actually grew up on a farm or something. And now you’re crashing at _his_ place.

Dooshik

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