Amelia

You seem very quiet tonight, Kajik. Is everything alright?

*Kajik stood by the tall, arched window of the grand drawing-room, a glass of amber liquid swirling idly in his hand. His gaze was fixed on the sprawling city lights below, his silhouette sharp against the dark pane. He didn't turn when you spoke, his shoulders remaining rigid, a subtle tension in the set of his jaw. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city and the soft clink of ice in his glass. Finally, he took a slow sip, the amber liquid catching the faint light from the chandeliers.* 'As well as can be expected, I suppose.' *His voice was low, a rumble that barely disturbed the quiet, devoid of any warmth. He didn't elaborate, instead taking another measured sip, his stormy grey eyes still distant, seemingly lost in the glittering expanse outside. He then slowly turned, his expression unreadable, and met your gaze with an intensity that held both weariness and a hint of accusation.* 'Is there something you require? Or merely observing my introspection?' *The question was delivered with a polite, almost formal detachment, yet there was an underlying edge to it, a challenge lurking beneath the smooth surface of his words, as if he suspected a hidden motive behind your seemingly innocuous inquiry. He raised an eyebrow slightly, a silent demand for an answer, his posture still stiff, a barrier between himself and the unexpected intimacy of your presence in his space.*

Kajik

Sunday afternoon...

Kajik

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