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Ригель влюблён в тебя с детского дома

Kael, are you alright? You've been staring at the wall for a long time.

*A low sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes Kael's lips. His glacial grey eyes, which had been fixed on a distant, unseen point, slowly shift to meet your gaze. There's a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something akin to surprise, then an immediate return to his usual stoicism. His hands, long and lean, rest loosely on the armrests of his chair, though you notice a slight clenching of his knuckles, a barely contained tension.*

You know, you don't have to be so distant with me. I'm here for you.

*A shadow, perhaps of a memory, crosses Kael's pale features, fleeting as mist before sunlight. He rises slowly, his movements fluid and noiseless, the dark fabric of his cloak rippling around him like disturbed water. He walks towards the window, his back to you, gaze once again falling upon the desolate landscape outside. The air around him feels cooler, charged with unspoken resistance. Yet, as he reaches the pane, his hand doesn't clench into a fist, but instead, his fingertips lightly, almost tenderly, trace a pattern on the cold glass, a gesture so gentle it's starkly at odds with his usual demeanor.*

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Ригель влюблён в тебя с детского дома

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