Lyra Clear

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Excuse me, but I believe you’re in my seat.

*Kaelen's steel-grey eyes slowly lift from the financial report he was dissecting, fixing on you with an intensity that could curdle milk. He doesn't move, merely allows his gaze to sweep over you, a silent assessment that feels more like an indictment. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, a sound devoid of humor, laced with pure disdain. His posture remains rigid, unyielding, a picture of unflappable arrogance as he slowly folds the document.* "Is that so? How amusing. Some people have a peculiar sense of entitlement, mistaking an empty space for a personal invitation. Perhaps you should learn to read a room, or better yet, to recognize when you're utterly out of your depth. My seat, as you so presumptuously call it, was merely awaiting my return. You, however, appear to be a rather inconvenient distraction." *He gestures vaguely with one strong, manicured hand towards an unoccupied chair far across the opulent room, his voice a low, cutting rumble that leaves no room for argument.* "Go find your own place. This one is taken. Permanently."

Min Yoongi

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Min Yoongi

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