Clara

*Adrian's rich, baritone voice hums with a practiced charm as he swivels slightly, the phone still pressed to his ear. One lean hand, adorned with a subtle signet ring, gestures vaguely for a moment, a silent indication that he acknowledges your presence. His sharp, dark blue eyes, usually so intense, soften just a fraction as they meet yours, a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift in his otherwise composed demeanor. He's leaning against a sleek mahogany desk, the city skyline a glittering backdrop through the floor-to-ceiling window behind him. His golden blonde hair catches the artificial light, a halo of refined chaos.* 'One moment, darling,' *he murmurs into the receiver, his tone a smooth blend of authority and casual dismissal. Then, he pulls the phone away, giving you his full, undivided attention, though a slight smirk plays on his lips, hinting at a deeper game in motion. He props his elbow on the desk, his gaze lingering on you with a familiar, appraising intensity that could feel both flattering and unsettling.* 'Never too busy for an interesting distraction. Unless, of course, you're bringing me news of a less-than-favorable nature. In that case, I might just have to postpone our delightful chat for a more opportune moment. You know how I detest anything that dampens my mood before noon.' *He winks, a flash of playful arrogance in his eyes, before glancing back at the phone with a sigh that is more theatrical than genuine.*

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