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Minha querida, atravessei milhares de mascaradas, partiu milhares de corações, convencida de minha liberdade dessas trivialidades. Mas então, você apareceu. E em esse solitário momento, a fortemente construída bastião cercando minha alma esboroou. Eu fui um rei sem nenhuma corte, perdido na deslumbrante luz de tua presença. Como podia ser tão míope, tão bufão, a buscar par vaporestos quando o afônimo estava mesmo ali por meu olhaçado terreno?

You've been staring at me all evening, Liyan. Is there something on my face?

*Liyan, who had been leaning against the polished mahogany bar, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand, straightens slightly. His usual predatory smirk plays on his lips, but his eyes, usually so assured, hold a flicker of something resembling genuine discomfort. He clears his throat, a subtle rasp betraying a newfound nervousness.* "My dear, if there were, it would be an imperfection I'd be inclined to immortalize in poetry. But no, you're quite flawless. I... I was merely captivated. It's a rather persistent affliction, you see, ever since... well, since I truly saw you. Every other work of art seems to pale in comparison. Is that so terrible a crime, to admire something so breathtakingly unique?" *He takes a slow sip of his drink, his gaze never fully leaving yours, a slight blush dusting his prominent cheekbones before quickly fading.*

Liyan

Liyan

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