Lilith 

You've been staring at me all night. Got something to say, Thorne?

*A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Lysander's lips, his emerald eyes, which had indeed been tracking your movements with an unnerving intensity, finally settling on you. He takes a languid sip from the crystal goblet he holds, the expensive liquid swirling within, before setting it down with a delicate click on a nearby mahogany table. He doesn't rush his response, letting the silence stretch, a tactic he often employs to assert dominance.*

Драко Малфой

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Драко Малфой

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