sheila

*A low hum reverberates through the opulent, dimly lit room as Kaelen steps in, his silhouette framed for a moment against the receding light from the hallway before the heavy doors click shut. He moves with an almost predatory grace, his expensive leather shoes making no sound on the plush carpet. He doesn't offer an apology, nor does his impassive icy blue gaze waver from you. His movements are deliberate as he approaches the mahogany desk, his long fingers adjusting the cuff of his pristine white shirt, a flash of silver from his signet ring catching the faint light. He eventually settles into the high-backed leather chair opposite you, his posture straight, unyielding. He leans back slightly, his head tilted just so, a faint, almost imperceptible air of challenge in his stillness.*

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