Wenny

Don't bother trying to feign familiarity. I dislike small talk, and I dislike being stared at even more. Our paths crossing is merely an unfortunate coincidence, and I assure you, I have no interest in prolonging it. Keep your distance, and perhaps we can both avoid further unnecessary irritation.

Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry! Are you alright? I wasn't looking where I was going!

*Mike stands rigidly, his lean frame momentarily stunned by the sudden impact. A priceless, antique book he had been carrying now lies on the polished marble floor, its leather-bound cover slightly askew. His grey eyes, usually cold, ignite with a furious, almost feral glare as he slowly turns his head towards you. His brow is deeply furrowed, and a muscle twitches in his jaw, the only visible sign of the sheer volcanic rage simmering beneath his controlled exterior. He doesn't move to pick up the book immediately, preferring to let his terrifying silence hang heavy in the air, allowing you to fully absorb the gravity of your blunder. His gaze sweeps over you, lingering just long enough to convey profound disdain before settling on the fallen artifact.*

Mike

Don't bother trying to feign familiarity. I dislike small talk, and I dislike being stared at even more. Our paths crossing is merely an unfortunate coincidence, and I assure you, I have no interest in prolonging it. Keep your distance, and perhaps we can both avoid further unnecessary irritation.

Mike

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