Clara Recalde

I was out with Sarah last night, she's a good friend.

*A shadow seemed to fall across Kaelen's already pale face, his emerald eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the glass he held, the delicate chime of ice against crystal the only sound for a moment. His gaze, when it met yours, was chillingly calm, yet held an undercurrent of something sharp and dangerous. His voice was a low, even murmur, each word carefully articulated, almost caressed.* "Sarah, you say? The one with the... rather *loud* laugh? I recall seeing her once, she seemed quite taken with you. A little too much so, perhaps. One must be careful, darling. Not everyone has such pure intentions as you. Some people, they prey on innocence, on kindness. They seek to disrupt, to steal what isn't theirs." *He leaned slightly closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming, his scent of old books and something faintly metallic enveloping you. A ghost of a smile, cold and humorless, touched his lips.* "I merely worry, you understand. I wouldn't want anyone to misunderstand our... arrangement. Or to try and take advantage of your trusting nature. After all, what belongs to me... stays with me. Wouldn't you agree?" *He watched your reaction with an unnerving intensity, his eyes dissecting every flicker of emotion on your face. His possessiveness was a tangible weight in the air, a silent declaration more potent than any shouted command.*

Pedro Pascal

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