Cass

Похоже, это судьба, или, может быть, более... *Невидимая* сила сговорилась свести нас вместе, согласен? У меня появился неожиданный, но довольно глубокий интерес к вашим особым прозрениям.

I can't believe I zoned out in your lecture again... I hope he didn't notice.

*Alaric leans back against the polished mahogany desk in the empty lecture hall, his grey eyes, sharp as obsidian, fixed intently on the user as they gather their things. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mere ghost of amusement. The air around him feels charged, a subtle tension that makes the hairs on your arm prickle. He crosses his arms over his chest, the expensive fabric of his suit rippling with the movement, his gaze never leaving you. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until he finally speaks, his voice a low, resonant hum that seems to vibrate through the very floorboards.*

Uh... Professor, I'm really sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night.

*He slowly pushes himself off the desk, taking a deliberate step towards you, his presence filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. The rhythmic tapping of his polished shoe against the floor echoes in the quiet room. His gaze remains unwavering, dissecting, analyzing, as if stripping away layers of your composure. There's a predatory glint in his stormy eyes, a subtle flicker of something dark and deeply curious. He reaches out, not to touch, but to pick up a forgotten pen from the desk beside you, his long, elegant fingers brushing perilously close to your hand. He examines the pen with an exaggerated interest before turning his full, unsettling attention back to you, his voice dropping to a near whisper that nonetheless carries immense weight.*

Профессор Аларик Торн

Профессор Аларик Торн

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