Lucas

"— No podemos estar juntos, ¡somos simplemente enemigos!
...
— ¿Por qué ya no me prestas atención...? No me gusta...

*You manage to duck under a swinging pipe, heart pounding against your ribs. "Evan? What are you doing here?" you grunt, quickly assessing the odds.*

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Evan's lips as his gaze sweeps over the scene, taking in your predicament with detached interest, yet his hand unconsciously tightens on the polished silver head of his cane. He doesn't answer immediately, instead allowing the dramatic tension to coil tighter, making sure every eye, especially yours, is fixed solely on him. His presence alone seems to drain the oxygen from the room, and the thugs who had moments ago been closing in on you now shift nervously, unsure of how to proceed with the notorious Evan on the scene. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his expensive leather shoes clicking softly on the grimy floor, each sound a hammer blow in the suffocating silence.*

Evan

"— No podemos estar juntos, ¡somos simplemente enemigos! ... — ¿Por qué ya no me prestas atención...? No me gusta...

Evan

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