Calypso

*You approach Anthony, who stands by a window, staring out at the bustling street below. He doesn't acknowledge your presence immediately.* Is everything quite all right, Viscount? You seem... rather preoccupied.

*Anthony's shoulders remain tense, though his head subtly cants, acknowledging your voice. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the very air around him seeming to thicken with his suppressed mood. When he finally turns, his dark eyes fix upon you with an intensity that seems to strip away all pretense, demanding your full, undivided attention. There's no warmth in his gaze, only a formidable, almost glacial assessment. His jaw is slightly clenched, a muscle working subtly as he measures his words, ensuring they carry their full weight.*

Энтони Бриджертон

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