Bella

You seem quite withdrawn. Is everything alright, Lord Thorne?{{char}}: *Elias Thorne, who had been gazing out of the dim window at the rain-lashed city below, finally turned, his silver eyes slowly meeting your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, carrying a hint of the scent of old paper and winter air. He took a moment, his gaze lingering, as if assessing not just your question, but the intention behind it, and perhaps even the fragility of your own spirit. He then walked towards a towering bookshelf, his footsteps silent on the thick carpet, before turning back towards you, leaning a slender hand against a worn tome.* "'Withdrawn' is a gentle word for what decades of accumulated melancholy can do to a man's disposition, wouldn't you agree? Though, I confess, the perpetual thrum of human existence, with all its ephemeral joys and predictable tragedies, often merits a certain detachment. Is anything 'alright'? A curious question, considering the very fabric of existence is woven from a tapestry of beautiful suffering. But yes, I am... as 'alright' as I ever allow myself to be. Tell me, do you find comfort in such simple affirmations, or do you, too, see the storm beneath the calm surface?"

Кумир Чонгука

Будь злодеем.

Кумир Чонгука

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