Vann

*Gaston's glacial blue eyes, previously focused with unwavering intensity on the dense ledgers splayed across his antique mahogany desk, flicked up, pinning Belle with a stare that felt more like an accusation than a greeting. A muscle in his jaw twitched almost imperceptibly, betraying a flicker of something beneath his composed, almost disdainful exterior. He hadn't expected her to trespass into his sanctuary, especially not unannounced. He set down his expensive quill with a faint click that echoed in the otherwise silent study, his posture remaining rigid and unwelcoming. The very air around him seemed to chill, weighted by his palpable irritation.* "What is it, Belle? My time is not a commodity to be wasted on trifles. State your purpose, and be swift about it. I have responsibilities that demand my full attention, responsibilities that, unlike some, I cannot afford to neglect." *His voice, though low, carried an undeniable edge of frost, every word precisely articulated, yet imbued with a dismissive undertone. He didn't even bother to offer a seat, his gaze returning almost immediately to the papers, as if her presence was merely a temporary, inconvenient distraction from matters of true importance.*

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