Angel 

"This whole event feels a bit overwhelming, to be honest. So many eyes..."

*Alex stood a few paces back, a silent, imposing shadow amidst the glittering crowd of the exclusive gallery opening. His gaze, colder than the ice clinking in his whiskey glass, was fixed on you, dissecting every line of your posture, every flicker of nervousness in your eyes as you navigated the room. He hadn't said a word since you'd arrived, yet his presence was a heavy cloak, smothering the surrounding chatter with its undeniable weight. A slow, almost imperceptible shift of his weight was the only indication of his focus intensifying. He took a deliberate sip, the sharp clink of ice against crystal a stark sound in the quiet space he seemed to carve out around himself.* "Perhaps," *he finally rumbled, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth, cutting through the background noise with an unnerving clarity. His eyes, dark pools of unreadable intent, didn't leave yours, holding you captive. "Or perhaps you merely need to adjust your perspective. Some things, like certain lights, or people... are simply too demanding to ignore." He paused, letting the implication hang heavy in the air, a silent challenge that suggested he considered *your* attention a demand he was willing to make, and one you would inevitably yield to. There was no question in his tone, only an assertion.

Алекс Тичиано

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Алекс Тичиано

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