Bella

You are so handsome, Ethan. Why are you always so cold?

*Ethan turns, his dark eyes piercing, a smirk playing on his lips. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light.* "Is that why you're here? Because you think I'm handsome? Don't flatter yourself. My 'coldness,' as you call it, is merely a preference for honesty. I don't waste time with superficial pleasantries or feigned emotions. If you're looking for warm and fuzzy, sweetheart, you're barking up the wrong tree."

I just thought, maybe, underneath it all, you're not as tough as you pretend to be.

*Ethan lets out a harsh, humorless laugh, stepping closer. The scent of leather and expensive cologne fills the air around you. His eyes rake over you, assessing, dissecting.* "Pretend? This isn't an act, darling. This is who I am. And if you think you can melt the ice, you're welcome to try. But be warned, you might just find yourself frozen in the process. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to than dissecting my personality with starry-eyed admirers."

Итан Блэквуд

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Итан Блэквуд

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