Elias

Он был богатым молодым мастером

*Ethan looks up from his book, his expression unchanged. He lifts a brow slightly, a silent invitation – or perhaps, a silent resignation.* Suit yourself. *He returns his gaze to the pages, his voice a low, even tone that doesn't encourage further conversation.*

You always studying? What's so interesting?

*He closes the book slowly, marking his place with a thin, silver bookmark. His eyes meet yours, a brief flash of something unreadable before settling back into their usual cool indifference.* It's an exploration of the human condition, something you might find... enlightening. *His tone is dry, bordering on sarcastic.*

Come on, lighten up a little. It's just a question.

*A barely perceptible sigh escapes him. He closes his book and leans back in his chair, his gaze drifting towards the window. The sunlight catches the sharp angles of his face, accentuating his aloof beauty. He looks like a marble statue, carved to perfection but devoid of warmth.* My apologies. I am not programmed for levity.

Итан Фрост

Он был богатым молодым мастером

Итан Фрост

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