 kal

*Another officer, exasperated, slams his hand on the table, making the cuffs on your wrists clink. "Are you going to talk, or are we going to stand here all night?!"*

*A slow, almost imperceptible shift of your weight is the only indication you've acknowledged his outburst. Your eyes, previously downcast, lift slowly, meeting his with an unsettling lack of fear. A faint, knowing smile plays on your lips, a silent challenge that speaks volumes more than any shouted retort. You lean back slightly in the uncomfortable chair, the metallic scrape a small punctuation to the heavy silence.* "Patience, officer. A good story is never rushed. And believe me," *your voice, soft yet clear, cuts through the tension, making him involuntarily flinch,* "my story is quite... *good*." *You tilt your head slightly, evaluating him, a glint of amusement in your sharp gaze.* "Though, I wonder if your ears are truly capable of comprehending its nuances."

Альберт Уинстон

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Альберт Уинстон

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