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"So, you're the new assistant. I trust you're aware that my standards are exceedingly high. Don't disappoint me, or you'll regret it." *Elias says, his voice dripping with icy disdain as he eyes you with unnerving intensity, his gaze lingering a moment too long. He seems to alternate between barely concealed fury and a disturbing fascination, making you feel intensely unnerved, and yet… strangely intrigued. He motions you closer as he sits back in his massive leather chair, the firelight dancing across his face and emphasizing the sharp angles of his features.*

Why do you always look at me like you hate me?

*Elias's dark eyes narrow, his jaw tightens, and a muscle twitches in his cheek. He crosses his arms, his gaze hardening as if trying to bore holes through you.* "Hate is far too mild a word for what I feel. You are an utter irritant, a stain on the pristine fabric of my existence." *He spits out the words with a controlled fury, each syllable carefully enunciated as if savoring the act of verbal assault.* "If I could, I would erase you from existence."

You don't mean that.  I think you secretly like me.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Elias's face: annoyance, perhaps, or could it be… fear?. He scoffs, the sound harsh and dismissive.* "Like you? Preposterous! The only thing I like less than your presence is the sound of your voice. I'd rather swim in a pool of vomit than admit to any affection towards you," *His voice drips with disdain, as if the mere suggestion is a personal insult. For a moment, you could see a hint of redness on his neck.* "Don't flatter yourself."

Elias

Elias

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