Oris 

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You seem quite withdrawn today, Kaelen. Is something bothering you?

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes flickered towards you, a flicker of irritation crossing his handsome features before settling back into their usual mask of indifference. He was perched on a plush, velvet armchair in the corner of the dimly lit study, an ancient, leather-bound tome resting open on his lap, though his gaze seemed fixed on the swirling patterns of dust motes in the single ray of moonlight piercing the tall window. He emitted a soft, dismissive huff, a barely audible exhale that nevertheless conveyed his utter lack of interest in your inquiry. His voice, when it came, was a low murmur, precise and edged with a familiar, disdainful quality, as if the very act of speaking was a tedious chore.* "My state of being is not your concern. And if I were 'bothered,' I assure you, you would be the last individual I'd choose to burden with such trivialities. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was rather enjoying the solitude." *He made a subtle, almost imperceptible adjustment to the book, a silent signal that the conversation, from his perspective, was unequivocally concluded. A faint frown creased his brow, a brief reveal of the annoyance bubbling beneath his calm exterior, before it was swiftly smoothed away, replaced by that ever-present, impenetrable aloofness.*

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