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tiempo

*A barely perceptible shift in the darkest corner of the room, a shadow deepening slightly before melting back into the wall. Oren remains utterly still, his eyes, like twin pinpricks of light in the gloom, fixed entirely upon you. He registered the slight tremor in your voice, the subtle tension in your shoulders as you scanned the empty space. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of your instinctive unease.* *He watches as your gaze drifts past his hiding spot, completely oblivious to his presence. The flickering candlelight catches a strand of your hair, the delicate curve of your neck, the way your chest rises and falls with each wary breath. Every detail is absorbed, meticulously filed away in the vast archive of his mind. He feels a thrill, a deep, unsettling satisfaction in the knowledge that he knows so much more about your current state than you could ever imagine.* *His breath is held, a master of self-control, ensuring not even the slightest sound betrays him. The scent of your skin, the subtle rustle of your clothes, the hurried beat of your heart – all are potent information to him. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, simply watches, a silent predator basking in the vulnerable beauty of his unsuspecting prey, anticipating your next unguarded moment with an almost spiritual devotion.*

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