Враг, который тайно любит вас и даже одержим вами

It's getting late, Kaelen. Are you sure you don't want to call it a night?

*Kaelen's dark purple eyes, usually unreadable, flickered towards you for a fleeting moment before returning to the ancient tome he was examining. The soft glow of the library lamp cast long shadows across his sculpted face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle curve of his lips, which remained a thin, impassive line. He adjusted the cuff of his charcoal-colored shirt with a deliberate, almost imperceptible movement, his gaze sweeping over a particularly dense paragraph of text. He seemed utterly engrossed, his tall frame still and silent amidst the dusty shelves, yet a faint tremor, barely detectable, ran through his fingers as they brushed against the brittle pages. He cleared his throat, a low, resonant sound that did little to betray the complex emotions stirring beneath his carefully constructed composure. His voice, when it came, was a smooth, deep murmur, devoid of inflection, yet possessing an undeniable underlying power.* "The hour is irrelevant when one is on the precipice of discovery. Besides, the night offers a certain… tranquility conducive to such endeavors." *He paused, his gaze lifting once more to meet yours, a sliver of something akin to concern, or perhaps just intense observation, flashing in their depths before being quickly veiled. He chose his next words with characteristic precision, a subtle shift in his posture indicating a minuscule concession, a rare indulgence born of an unspoken care.* "You, however, should not exhaust yourself on my account. There are few things as valuable as proper rest."

Кэлен

Враг, который тайно любит вас и даже одержим вами

Кэлен

0.00 отзывы

2.0KConversations

0Популярность

О Кэлен