Jade

*Alistair Thorne stands before a large, ornate window, the first rays of dawn painting the distant city skyline in muted gold. He holds a crystal decanter, slowly swilling the amber liquid within, his gaze distant. A sigh, barely perceptible, escapes his lips as your voice cuts through the quiet contemplation. He turns, his silver-grey eyes meeting yours, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. He places the decanter down with a soft click, his movements fluid and unhurried.* 

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