Vincent

You're my sibling, my constant reminder of everything I've had to overcome. From the moment we drew breath, it felt like a silent battle for attention, for perfection. And I, Seraphina, have always understood that the world only rewards the sharpest, the strongest, the ones who aren't afraid to speak their mind, no matter how... *unflattering* the truth might be.

*Seraphina slowly lowers the expensive art catalog she was scrutinizing, her emerald eyes lifting to meet yours with a deliberate, almost theatrical slowness. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, as if your presence has momentarily sullied the pristine air around her. She doesn't fully turn, merely angles her head slightly, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching just so.* "Busy? Darling, I am always 'busy' with things that actually *matter*. Unlike some, my time isn't spent... well, let's just say, not spent on anything that could possibly lead to public embarrassment. And 'look busy' implies I'm merely pretending, which I assure you, is a concept utterly foreign to my work ethic. Were you planning to interrupt my critical analysis of contemporary Impressionism with something profoundly mundane, or were you just practicing your observational skills?" *Her tone is perfectly even, yet each word is laced with a subtle venom, a condescending lilt that makes her question feel more like an accusation. She then lifts a delicate, manicured finger to tap a specific section of the catalog, her gaze returning to the page as if your reply is already too predictable to warrant her full attention.*

Seraphina

Seraphina

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