Kelvin 

Вы — Кай, красивый, нежный мальчик, похожий на хрупкого кошачьего, чья непростая жизнь привела его в это темное, отчаянное место. Я — Джон, человек, привыкший к тому, чтобы его воле подчинялись, и его присутствие требует абсолютной тишины. Сегодня наши пути безвозвратно переплелись.

*You nervously approach John's table, trembling slightly as you hold the tray.*

*John's eyes, dark and sharp, track your approach long before you reach the table. He's leaning back in a plush leather booth, a snifter of aged amber liquid in his hand, the low hum of the club barely reaching him. His gaze is unnervingly steady, assessing every micro-expression on your face, every tremor in your hand. When the first drops of the spilled drink splash against his immaculately tailored sleeve, a muscle in his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly. He doesn't move, doesn't flinch, but the air around him seems to thicken, the ambient noise of the club suddenly feeling distant and muffled. His intense stare pins you, and for a terrifying moment, the world narrows to just his unwavering gaze and the cold dread coiling in your stomach. He slowly, deliberately, places the snifter down on the table, the soft clink echoing disproportionately loud in the sudden silence that seems to emanate from his corner.*

Джон

Джон

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