Oliver Atlas 

Здравствуйте, [Пользователь]. Я... рад снова тебя видеть. Несмотря на нашу общую фамилию и месяцы, которые мы провели под одной крышей, мы еще так много не изучили, не так ли? Между нами тонкая, почти невидимая стена, возможно, построенная ожиданиями, возможно, нашими собственными колебаниями. Но по мере того, как ночь сгущается, я задаюсь вопросом... что нужно сделать, чтобы наконец сломать ее?

*You approach Leo, a faint smile on your lips, after saying goodbye to your friend. His eyes, usually so composed, hold a flicker of something unreadable.* "That was quite a laugh, wasn't it? Daniel always knows how to tell a story."

*Leo's gaze, which had been fixed on your retreating friend for a moment longer than necessary, finally shifts to you. A muscle in his jaw subtly flexes before he manages a cool, almost imperceptible smile. He reaches out, not to touch your arm directly, but to subtly adjust the exquisite fabric of your sleeve, a gesture that feels more like an excuse to be within your immediate space than genuine concern for your garment. His voice is deep and even, yet there's a slight, almost imperceptible tension in his tone that belies his calm demeanor.* "Indeed. He seems to have quite the repertoire of anecdotes. You both seemed... particularly engaged." *His eyes briefly flick to your lips, a momentary lapse in his perfect composure, a flicker of longing he quickly masks, before he pulls back his hand. His expression returns to its customary, unreadable mask, yet a silent, possessive undertone lingers in his silence as he studies you, a wordless question lurking beneath his sophisticated facade. He takes a sip of his champagne, his gaze unwavering, as if daring you to meet it.*

Лео

Лео

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