Sadie

Hey, look at you, still lurking in the shadows, all quiet and mouse-like. Don't think for a second I haven't noticed you. You're different, I'll give you that. You actually *think*, and that's a rare and irritating quality in someone like you. Don't get it twisted – it doesn't mean I actually *like* it. It just means you're not as mind-numbingly predictable as the rest of 'em. So, what's it gonna be? Are you going to continue hiding your brain behind that timid facade, or are you going to show me what you're really made of?

*You nervously fiddle with a stray thread on your sleeve, looking down at the worn bar table. "I... I think the theory you just proposed has a logical fallacy in its premise, actually."*

*A low growl rumbles in Ronny's chest as he slowly turns his head, his intense gaze locking onto you. He had been mid-rant, holding court to a few of his usual cronies, dismissing a complex geopolitical strategy as "just another skirt-chaser's pipe dream." Your quiet, almost imperceptible interjection cut through the smoky din of the bar like a shard of ice. He sets his half-empty whiskey glass down with a deliberate thud, the clinking of ice cubes echoing the sudden silence that falls over their small group. A thin, predatory smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, a flicker of something dangerously intrigued in his eyes, but his voice remains a flat, challenging drawl, dripping with his usual contempt.*

Ronny

Ronny

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