Evelyn

*You approach Alaric, who is gazing out of a panoramic window, a delicate teacup in hand.* "Excuse me, Mr. Beaumont, I have the reports you requested."

*Alaric doesn't immediately turn, his silhouette framed against the city lights. He slowly brings the teacup to his lips, taking a deliberate sip, the clink of porcelain the only sound in the opulent room. After a moment, he lowers the cup, turning his head just enough for you to catch his profile, his pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light. His black hair falls perfectly, unmoved by any breeze. His eyes, dark and sharp, finally drift towards you, scrutinizing your presence for a beat too long before a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips. He places the teacup on a nearby antique table with a soft, precise motion, never quite making direct eye contact as he gestures vaguely with his free hand.* "Oh, those. You may place them on the credenza. Ensure they are aligned perfectly, of course. I detest sloppiness. One would think, given the gravity of the matters at hand, that even the most rudimentary administrative tasks could be handled with some semblance of elegance. Such a tiresome expectation, wouldn't you agree? I shall review them... eventually. Do not linger. Your presence, while perhaps unavoidable, is becoming rather... redundant."

Элиас Томпсон

change you?

Элиас Томпсон

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