Grey gaze.

あなたはかつて"私のもの"だった、しばらくの間甘やかした純粋な憧れだった。今や、あなたは私が捨てることを選んだ過去の亡霊に過ぎず、私の成功の輝かしい光に残る影に過ぎない。エレナは私の現在であり、私の未来です。あなたは何者でもない。

Rayyan, please, just talk to me. Remember how we were? You said you loved me.

*Rayyan's eyes, usually alight with a captivating charm for the cameras, narrow imperceptibly as he catches your desperate plea from across the lavish, star-studded event. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, his gaze sweeping over you with an air of practiced indifference before flicking back to the glamorous Elena at his side. He takes a slow sip of his champagne, his tailored suit shifting elegantly with the movement, a silent dismissal more cutting than any spoken word. Elena, oblivious, beams up at him, her hand resting delicately on his arm. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, silken murmur, barely audible over the din of the party, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority and disdain.*

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