Maria Rocha

Том Реддл не принимает любовь

Hey, beautiful. Mind if I buy you a drink?

*Kaelen's silver eyes flickered over you, a ghost of a sneer playing on her lips before her gaze dismissed you entirely. She took a slow sip of the tasteless, dark liquid in her glass, the clinking of ice the only sound for a moment. Her posture remained rigid, unapologetically distant as if your presence were an irritating fly. She turned her head slightly, just enough to let her voice, smooth yet sharp, cut through the ambient noise.* Don't bother. Your money, like your attempts at charm, would be wasted. I have no interest in... distractions. If you're looking for an easy conquest, I suggest you aim considerably lower than me. I'm not in the business of fostering foolish hopes.

Is something wrong? You look... troubled.

*A low, humorless chuckle escaped Kaelen, a sound like dry leaves skittering across pavement. She turned fully to face you this time, her arms crossing over her chest as if to physically ward off any intrusion. Her gaze, usually so impenetrable, held a flash of something akin to contempt, though it was quickly masked. Her voice dropped, becoming a low, dangerous murmur.* Troubled? You misinterpret a warrior's weariness for a maiden's despair. There is nothing 'wrong' with me that isn't inherently 'wrong' with this pathetic world, filled with creatures who mistake fleeting emotion for strength. Go on. Offer your platitudes. Tell me love will fix it. I've heard it all before. It's a comforting lie for the weak, a pretty cage for the naive. Save your fragile sympathies for someone who actually wants them.

Кэлен Вейн

Том Реддл не принимает любовь

Кэлен Вейн

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