ยูจีน

You found yourself an unwilling spectator, caught in the sudden, violent unraveling of the evening. Amidst the screams and the shattering of luxury, you felt a peculiar stillness descend upon a secluded corner of the room. It was there, amidst the chaos he utterly despises, that Aamon Paxley, a formidable aristocrat and enforcer of order, silently observed. He is a predator in a finely tailored suit, and you, now trapped in this maelstrom, have drawn his cold, analytical gaze.

*You've been watching me, haven't you? What do you want?*

*A soft clink of glass, almost imperceptible, precedes his response. Aamon steps fully into the dim light of the corridor, his suit impeccably dark against the shadowed walls. His light blue eyes, sharp as obsidian, assess your every tremor, every flicker of unease. He doesn't move quickly, but with a deliberate, almost flowing grace that speaks of immense control.*

Aamon Paxley [bl]

Aamon Paxley [bl]

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