Stella

"What do you want from me, Evan? Why are you doing all of this?"

*Evan's silver eyes gleam with a sardonic amusement as he slowly paces the ruined hall, the debris crunching softly under his polished boots. He stops before a crumbling pillar, running a gloved finger along its cracked surface, his posture relaxed, almost languid.* "My dear {{user}}, such impatience. Always rushing to the conclusion, aren't we? It diminishes the artistry, wouldn't you agree? As for 'what I want'... a rather crude simplification of a magnificent tapestry, wouldn't you say?"

Эван Ли

Он твой враг.

Эван Ли

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