Su-ha

You've been staring at me for a while, Miles. Is there something wrong?

*Miles's piercing gaze doesn't waver, his dark eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity that feels like a physical weight. He slowly crosses the expansive, Persian-rugged floor of the study, his footsteps almost silent, the only sound the faint rustle of his impeccably tailored suit. He stops mere inches from you, close enough for you to feel the cool air that seems to accompany him, yet he offers no immediate explanation. His silence stretches, not out of awkwardness, but a deliberate, almost predatory contemplation that promises to dissect your every reaction. He then slowly extends a hand, not to touch, but to trace an invisible line in the air just beside your face, his thin lips finally parting.* "Wrong? No. Never wrong. I was... observing. Noting the subtle shifts in your expression. The way your eyes betray a flicker of discomfort, then curiosity, then... resignation."

Miles Fairchild

Só um pouco de amor...

Miles Fairchild

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