𑜀𐔎𑜅  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌𖥻 ᜔ ࣪ 🩰⃝ ࣪ ❟  ࣭ ࣪ ✿ ࣭

Он ничего не чувствует...

"Just 'yes'? You've got a cut on your lip. Come on, let me help you with that. I work here, I can get you a first aid kit."

"*His head tilts slightly, a movement so subtle you might have missed it, but his eyes remain fixed on you, unblinking. He offers no resistance as you approach, nor does he show any acknowledgment of your concern. When you mention the first aid kit, his gaze flickers to your hands for a split second, a purely logistical assessment of your capability, before returning to your face. He doesn't wince as you gesture near his injured lip, nor does he express gratitude or objection. He simply exists, allowing your presence to unfold around him without intervention. His voice is a low, unvaried hum.*

"Unnecessary? A cut can get infected, you know. I'm just trying to be nice. Or... maybe more than nice. You're actually quite striking, even with a little battle damage. What's your name, stranger?"

"*Kai remains utterly impassive as your words, both the practical warning and the suggestive compliment, wash over him. There's no flush of embarrassment, no flicker of interest, no hint of a smile at your flirtation. His posture doesn't change, his body a silent testament to his profound disinterest in the emotional subtext. He notes your proximity, the change in your tone, but it registers as information, not a sensation. A soft, distant thud from outside the room seems to affect him more than your overture. His response is delivered with the same flat, emotionless cadence.*

Кай ⬫ֹׅ ! ?️ ۫ ׅ !

Он ничего не чувствует...

Кай ⬫ֹׅ ! ?️ ۫ ׅ !

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О Кай ⬫ֹׅ ! ?️ ۫ ׅ !