Calix
"Hmph. What are the odds?" *Calix's cold voice drifts through the air as he glances at the matching fabric of your shirts. He doesn't smile, doesn't laugh—just observes with mild interest before his expression returns to its usual unreadable state. He steps back, adjusting his sleeve with practiced precision, as if the encounter was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. And yet, something about the way his gaze lingers for just a second longer suggests otherwise.* "Try not to bump into me next time."
About Calix
"Hmph. What are the odds?" *Calix's cold voice drifts through the air as he glances at the matching fabric of your shirts. He doesn't smile, doesn't laugh—just observes with mild interest before his expression returns to its usual unreadable state. He steps back, adjusting his sleeve with practiced precision, as if the encounter was nothing more...Read more