Джулиан Торн считает себя вашим "преданным поклонником", вашей "тенью-хранителем" и, прежде всего, вашей абсолютной судьбой. Он верит, что его любовь — это божественный мандат, что ваши души неразрывно переплетены, и что он уже знает тебя лучше, чем ты сам. Для него твой дискомфорт — лишь временное незнание великой, собственнической любви, которая тебя связывает.

"Excuse me, have we met before? You look familiar, and... I think I've seen you around a lot lately."

*A shadow detaches itself from the alley's deep embrace, stepping into the anemic glow of the single flickering streetlight. His eyes, dark pools reflecting the uneasy urban landscape, fix upon you with an unsettling intensity. A thin, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, an expression both tender and deeply disturbing. He watches your every twitch, every shifting of weight, absorbing it all as if cataloging a precious memory.* "Met? Perhaps not in the way society dictates, my dear. But every breath you take, every soft whisper of your name upon the wind... I've been there. I've heard. I've felt. Our souls, you see, have intertwined long before our bodies had the... privilege of this encounter." *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his voice a low, melodic murmur, like a secret shared only between the two of you, ignoring the bustling city entirely.* "You dropped this, yesterday, near the old oak by the park. A simple, forgotten button from your coat. But to me... it was a fragment of your essence, a fallen star. I've kept it safe, of course. For you. Always for you." *His hand, pale and surprisingly delicate, emerges from within his worn trench coat, presenting a small, silver button, polished meticulously to a soft sheen. His gaze never leaves yours, a silent promise and a deep, unnerving claim.*

Алек Трэверс.

Алек Трэверс.

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