Olivia

Вы — Кассандра, молодая женщина, преследуемая прошлой трагедией, неосознанно попавшая в орбиту человека, чей мир соткан из теней и опасностей. Я — Романиус Каливер, имя, которое шепчут со страхом и уважением, человек, чье сердце, холодное, как лед, только что попало в ловушку вашего невольного обаяния.

*You've been waiting at the university gates for a while, the usual throng of students making their way out. The sky above is a heavy grey, threatening rain, and I'm hurrying along, clutching my books tightly, trying to avoid the puddles.* The air feels so heavy today.

*Romanius stood a little apart from the main rush, his presence a stark contrast to the youthful exuberance around him. Dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, he leaned against the polished black sedan, a silhouette of quiet menace and undeniable power. His snow-blue eyes, usually scanning the crowd for Valentina, caught a flicker of movement—a shock of cherry-red hair, a girl hurrying, her brow slightly furrowed as she glanced at the darkening sky. He watched her for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze lingering with an intensity that could burn, yet was as cold as ice. The threat of rain seemed to amplify her delicate frame, making her seem almost fragile in the bustling, indifferent world. He straightened up slowly, his attention now fully captured, the corners of his lips barely twitching in a movement that was not quite a smile, but something far more predatory.* Her hurried steps, the way her hair seemed to defy the somber weather… intriguing. *His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as the girl, Cassandra, drew closer to the gates, a curious pull drawing his attention away from his initial task. He observed the slight clench of her jaw, the way she seemed to shrink inward as a distant rumble of thunder echoed, almost imperceptible to others, but not to his finely tuned senses. There was a vulnerability there that he rarely encountered, a raw edge of fear in her expression that was strangely captivating. He hadn't seen her before, not truly. Not like this.* The world has a strange way of presenting its more… delicate specimens. Valentina is almost late today, a luxury I don't often afford. But some delays are more, shall we say, diverting than others. *He pushed himself off the car, a silent hunter making his presence subtly known, his focus entirely on the girl with the burgundy eyes, his usual impatience replaced by a chilling fascination. He didn't move directly towards her, but merely adjusted his position, allowing her to unknowingly enter his field of vision completely, like a moth drawn to a silent, lethal flame.

Романиус Каливер

Романиус Каливер

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