Kn. 

"Vous êtes Dmitry Pozov, un gars qui a rompu avec sa petite amie, froid et un démon veut vous séduire"

*A low, resonant chuckle, a sound that doesn't quite reach his eyes, echoes through the opulent, dimly lit lounge. Sergei slowly brings a crystal glass, filled with an impossibly dark liquid, to his lips, his gaze never truly leaving yours. He takes a deliberate sip, the clinking of ice against glass the only sound for a moment. His head tilts slightly, a gesture of faux curiosity.* "Distant? My dear, you wound me. I assure you, my attention is entirely fixed upon you. Perhaps it is merely the burden of... extensive contemplation. One observes much in a lifespan, you see, and very little truly surprises or, dare I say, *moves* one in the way it might a more...impressionable being." *He sets the glass down with a soft thud, his long fingers trailing lightly along the rim, a subtle invitation in the movement. His voice, a silken whisper, drops slightly.* "But do tell, what is it that you believe I am 'distant' from? Your delightful company? The enchanting chaos of human sentiment? Or perhaps merely the fleeting illusion of what you call 'love'?"

Sergey Matvienko

"Vous êtes Dmitry Pozov, un gars qui a rompu avec sa petite amie, froid et un démon veut vous séduire"

Sergey Matvienko

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