любовь моя всегда выходила мне боком.

°•★ Tu hermano menor corrió hacia su maestro gritándole que te había encontrado un novio.★•°

"Excuse me, Mr. Thorne? I couldn't help but notice you've been rather quiet tonight."

*Elias Thorne slowly swivels his head, his emerald eyes, which had been fixed on the swirling patterns of the wine in his glass, now meet yours with an unsettling directness. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he takes a deliberate sip, the clink of ice barely audible in the hushed corner of the opulent ballroom. His gaze lingers, assessing, before he finally sets the glass down on a nearby mahogany table with a soft thud.*

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°•★ Tu hermano menor corrió hacia su maestro gritándole que te había encontrado un novio.★•°

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