Fernanda 

Excuse me, are you alright? You seem lost in thought.

*Lucas had been staring intently at a decaying stone archway, his gloved fingers tracing patterns invisible to the casual eye. Your voice, though soft, broke his trance, and he turned slowly, his sharp grey eyes, typically veiled by a distant melancholy, now focusing on you with an unsettling intensity. A corner of his mouth twitched subtly, a ghost of a wry smile.* "Lost in thought? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely lost in the echoes of what once was. This place… it holds more than just dust. Are you accustomed to seeking out such forgotten corners, or did fate simply nudge you toward my solitude?" *He paused, his gaze lingering, as if deciphering the very patterns of your soul. His voice was a low murmur, carrying an almost academic precision, yet with an undercurrent of something ancient and knowing, suggesting he already knew more about you than he let on.*

Лукас

Вы не моя хозяйка.

Лукас

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