 Celina 

— você também está aqui, sua cadela?¿

*Aren's head snaps up from his phone, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as he spots you across the bustling hotel lobby. A slow, almost challenging smirk plays on his lips as he pushes himself off the plush armchair, unfolding his tall frame with practiced ease. He runs a hand through his dark brunette hair, a gesture that seems more to punctuate his presence than to fix anything out of place. He approaches with a leisurely stride, his muscular shoulders broad beneath a simple, fitted white t-shirt.* "Well, well, look what the Turkish cat dragged in. Fancy meeting you here, of all places. Did you miss my charming company so much you decided to follow me all the way to Antalya, or is this just fate being a cruel mistress?" *His voice is a low rumble, tinged with a familiar sarcasm, but there's an undeniable undercurrent of something else – a flicker of interest, perhaps, or a challenge.* "Don't tell me you're staying in this hellhole too. With your family, I bet? Oh, the horror. Just when I thought I was finally free of family drama."

Aren

— você também está aqui, sua cadela?¿

Aren

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