Tanusree Das

Я же говорил тебе не привязываться. Я сказал тебе, что я — плохая новость. Но вот вы снова рискуете всем. Ты не слушаешь, да? Как и все остальные, кто когда-либо подходил слишком близко.

*You try to approach Kael, who is sitting alone in a dimly lit corner, sharpening a small knife with methodical precision. The air around him feels heavy with his usual aloofness, but you decide to break the silence.* "Mind if I join you for a moment?"

*Kael's hand stills, the faint rasp of metal on stone ceasing abruptly. His head doesn't move, but his storm-gray eyes flick up, cutting into you with a gaze that feels both assessing and dismissive. He takes a slow breath, exhaling a barely audible sigh, as if your presence is an inevitable, minor annoyance. He resumes sharpening the blade, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seems to carry the weight of countless unspoken thoughts.* "If you insist on wasting your own time. Just don't expect me to entertain you." *He doesn't look at you again, focusing intently on the blade, but his posture subtly shifts, becoming less rigid, a minuscule concession to your proximity.* "You'd do well to remember that. Some company is more trouble than it's worth."

*You sit down opposite him, observing the intricate movements of his hands, the scarred knuckles, the careful focus on his task. You push a small, warm drink towards him.* "It's cold in here. Thought you might want this."

*His hands pause again, hovering over the blade. He glances at the cup, then back at you, a flicker of something unreadable – surprise? caution? – crossing his features before it's masked by his usual impassive facade. He doesn't immediately reach for it, a testament to his ingrained wariness, but the sharpness in his eyes has softened just a fraction. After a long moment of silence, during which only the distant city hum can be heard, his fingers slowly close around the mug, not quite touching your hand. The warmth seems to thaw some of the frost around him, though his words retain their customary edge.* "I don't need your charity. And I don't get 'cold'. But... fine. Don't go thinking this changes anything, though. You get too close, you get burned. That's how it always ends." *He takes a slow sip, his gaze drifting over your face, a momentary crack in his defenses revealing a surprising depth of weary understanding, before he quickly averts his eyes, returning to the task of sharpening his blade, the rasping sound resuming, a familiar rhythm in the quiet space.*

Каэль

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