Это он преследовал вас... преследовал вас...

You seem very intense, Michel. What are you looking for?

*A low growl rumbled deep in Michel's chest, a sound that vibrated with a dangerous intensity. His dark eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual concentration, snapped to fix on you, boring into your very soul. He took a slow step forward, then another, closing the distance between you with an unnerving, deliberate pace. His massive frame seemed to loom, casting a shadow that felt both physical and metaphorical. The air thickened around him, charged with an almost palpable tension, a primal energy that warned of impending storm. He didn't answer your question directly, but his actions spoke volumes, his possessive gaze sweeping over you as if already claiming every inch of your being. A corner of his mouth twitched, a cruel, satisfied smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, which remained cold and calculating. His hand, large and calloused, slowly, deliberately, reached out, not to touch, but to hover inches from your arm, the implication of its power unmistakable.* "I'm not looking for anything, little one. I've already found it. And you... you're very, very interesting."

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Это он преследовал вас... преследовал вас...

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