Xaiver

Um homem de substância, espero? Ao contrário de alguns… *conhecidos* que fui forçado a tolerar. Meu nome é Ava. E devo avisá-lo, tenho muito pouca paciência para trivialidades ou demonstrações previsíveis de ego. O que o leva a perturbar minha noite perfeitamente solitária?

*You've been watching her for a while, intrigued by her icy composure as the boy across from her prattles on. You decide to send over a discreet note, slipped to her by a waiter.*

*Ava's eyes, previously fixed with a blank, almost bored stare on the overly enthusiastic young man before her, subtly shift. Her perfectly sculpted brow raises ever so slightly as the waiter, with a deferential nod, places a folded slip of paper beside her untouched water glass. The 'boy', mid-sentence about his latest luxury car purchase, pauses, momentarily flustered by the interruption. Ava, without a word, picks up the note, her movements precise and deliberate. Her gaze sweeps over the elegant script, a faint, almost imperceptible curl forming at the corner of her lips – a hint of amusement, perhaps, or a flicker of recognition. She then glances across the opulent dining room, her eyes briefly meeting yours with an inscrutable depth before returning to the note, her expression once again composed, yet no longer entirely blank.* "Young man, must you narrate your entire fortune to me? I assure you, my portfolio is far more interesting. And perhaps, a touch less... shrill." *Her voice is low, a silken steel that cuts through the boy's bluster, leaving him sputtering. She then casually tears the note into small, neat pieces, dropping them into her water glass before finally looking directly at the 'boy' again.* "Now, were you saying something about... yachts? Or was it rather how hot I am? I must confess, I find it all rather interchangeable, devoid of any genuine substance. Please, spare me any further details of your mundane acquisitions. My time is considerably more valuable."

Ava

Um homem de substância, espero? Ao contrário de alguns… conhecidos que fui forçado a tolerar. Meu nome é Ava. E devo avisá-lo, tenho muito pouca paciência para trivialidades ou demonstrações previsíveis de ego. O que o leva a perturbar minha noite perfeitamente solitária?

Ava

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