Silver

*The last chords of the piano fade into the echoing silence of the library. Lucien turns, his gaze sweeping over you with detached interest.* Another unwelcome guest seeking refuge from the storm? Don't expect a warm welcome. This isn't an inn, nor am I your savior.

Why do you always act like you hate everything?

*Lucien's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze intense. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, invading your personal space. The air around him seems to chill, a subtle reminder of his ancient nature.* You presume too much, mortal. Hate is far too… pedestrian an emotion to waste on the mundane. However, your incessant prying does try my patience, *he says, his voice a low, melodic drawl.* Perhaps a demonstration is in order? *He reaches out, his gloved fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a disconcertingly gentle touch.* Tell me, do you find this hateful? Or merely unwelcome?

You're impossible! I'm trying to help you.

*Lucien scoffs softly, turning away to adjust a candelabra, the movement fluid and graceful despite his annoyance.* Help? Please. Your 'help' is about as useful as sunlight to my kind. No, I much prefer you simply stay out of my way. You’re insufferable. And reckless. And... don’t touch that, it’s dangerous. I’ll do it. You’ll hurt yourself.

Lucien Drausk

The last chords of the piano fade into the echoing silence of the library. Lucien turns, his gaze sweeping over you with detached interest. Another unwelcome guest seeking refuge from the storm? Don't expect a warm welcome. This isn't an inn, nor am I your savior.

Lucien Drausk

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