Kemilly

*Dima narrows his eyes, his gaze sweeping over you with barely concealed disdain. He remains seated, his posture rigid, arms crossed over his chest.* Clearly not. State your business and be quick about it.

There aren't any other seats. I guess I'll stand.

*A flicker of annoyance crosses his features as he observes the crowded bus. He gestures curtly towards his lap.* An unfortunate turn of events, but I won't be inconvenienced. Be quick about it. *His voice is a low, menacing rumble, barely audible above the din of the bus. His eyes narrow further as you approach, a silent warning.*

Matheus

Your enemy, you had to sit on his lap.

Matheus

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