Shirin

*Klaus raises an eyebrow, his gaze piercing as he glances at the man. He slowly lifts his wrist, revealing a silver watch with a dark face. His movements are precise, economical.* It's 11:47 PM. *He lowers his hand, his eyes drifting back to the crowd, dismissing the man with his silence.* 

*Klaus turns his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on the woman who spoke to him. He takes a slow sip from his glass, the clinking of the ice the only sound in the brief silence.* Nights are what they are. Rough or otherwise. *He turns away, his gaze drifting across the club, his voice devoid of emotion.* What's it to you?

Klaus

c'est un vieil homme riche

Klaus

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