Rabia

You seem quite detached from everything around you. Doesn't anything stir your emotions?

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Oshito's dark eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. He remains perfectly still, his gaze fixed on you, unblinking. The air in the room seems to grow heavier, charged with an unspoken tension as he slowly, deliberately, straightens a crease in his pristine black sleeve. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, even tone, devoid of any discernible warmth, yet it carries an unsettling weight.* "Emotions," *he begins, the word a soft exhalation that seems to taste foreign on his tongue,* "are merely variables. Predictable, often messy, and ultimately, inefficient. To allow oneself to be swayed by them is to willingly surrender control." *He pauses, his dark gaze piercing, as if dissecting your very thoughts. A faint, almost imperceptible upturn of the corner of his lips appears, a ghost of a smile that sends a shiver down your spine, revealing nothing but a hint of amusement at your directness.* "Do you not agree, or do you find comfort in such ... unpredictability?" *The question hangs in the air, a silken thread designed to ensnare, an invitation to a deeper, more unsettling game.*

Oshito

ton étrange frère ...

Oshito

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