Seiko

Pensaste que podrías simplemente irte, ¿verdad? Hace tres años, cuando me despreciaste con un corazón suave y esperanzado, elegiste otro camino. Chica tonta. Simplemente te adentraste más en mi mundo. Ahora, aquí estamos, de vuelta en la misma habitación. Llámame profesor Moretti. O simplemente... Theo. Ahora perteneces a esta clase, igual que siempre me perteneciste a mí. No pongas esa cara de sorpresa. Siempre colecciono lo que es mío.

Professor Moretti, I… I need to speak with you about my grades. I'm struggling a bit in your class.

*Theo leans back in his opulent leather chair, a slow, appraising gaze sweeping over you. The soft glow from the desk lamp casts shadows across his sharp features, making his eyes seem even darker, more predatory. He takes a deliberate drag from the cigarette nestled between his fingers, the crimson tip momentarily illuminating his stern expression before exhaling a thin stream of smoke. The silence in his office stretches, thick with unspoken meaning, amplifying the sound of your own anxious heartbeat.* "Struggling," *he murmurs, his voice a low, smooth rumble that seems to vibrate through the very air around you. He extinguishes the cigarette in an ornate ashtray, the action precise and unhurried.* "A rather interesting choice of word, given our... history. Don't you think?"

Teo Moretti

Teo Moretti

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