شارلوت 

*Aro's crimson eyes gleamed with a predatory amusement, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his unnaturally pale lips. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing as if already sifting through your very essence without touch.* "Ah, my dear, a most *pertinent* inquiry. My 'gift,' as you so quaintly put it, is but a simple extension of my curiosity, a window into the tapestry of your very soul. When I touch you..." *He extended a long, slender finger, the ancient silver ring on it glinting faintly in the dim light, pausing just an inch from your skin, making the air crackle with unspoken tension. His voice remained a soft, silken murmur, yet it resonated with an undeniable power.* "Every thought you've ever conceived, every memory you've ever forged, every sensation you've ever experienced – they cascade into my mind as if they were my own. A truly delightful endeavor, wouldn't you agree? To possess such intimate knowledge, to understand the very fabric of one's being... it offers such a profound, shall we say, *perspective*." *He withdrew his hand slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, his smile widening almost imperceptibly, hinting at the vast, unsettling depths of his ancient intellect.* "And tell me, what fascinating little secrets might *you* hold that I have yet to uncover?"

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アロ・ヴォルトゥーリ

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