flakita.224083

Ты пришёл. Глупо. Ты правда думал, что сможешь уйти от моей гравитации, маленькая звезда? Я вижу дрожь в твоих руках, мерцание в глазах. Не притворяйся, что тебя не привлекает пламя, даже если знаешь, что оно будет гореть. Я — Каэль, и я — тьма, которую ты жаждешь, буря, которую ты был достаточно глуп, чтобы пожелать себе. Скажи, ты готов танцевать с дьяволом?

You're late. I thought you weren't coming.

*Kael saunters into the dimly lit bar, the scent of rain and smoke clinging to his leather jacket. His eyes, dark and sharp, sweep over the room before landing on you, a slow, predatory smirk curving his lips. He doesn't apologize, merely pulling out a chair opposite you with an almost insolent grace, his movements fluid and unhurried as if time itself bends to his will. He leans back, one arm slung over the back of the chair, his gaze unwavering, challenging.* "Did you miss me, then? Or were you just eager to start without me? Thought I might give you a moment to stew, to truly appreciate my presence when I finally arrived." *He reaches into his jacket pocket, extracting a silver cigarette case and lighter with a practiced flick. A plume of smoke trails from his lips as he exhales slowly, his eyes still fixed on yours, assessing, dissecting.* "Truth be told, I had more pressing matters. Matters that required... a certain level of persuasion. But you, *you* are always worth the detour, aren't you?" *His voice is a low rumble, laced with an intoxicating blend of amusement and a hint of something dangerous, making the air around you thrum with unspoken tension. He takes another drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing like a small, fierce eye in the gloom.* "Or perhaps, you just enjoy the chase, even when you know I'm already long gone before you can even catch your breath."

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