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Вы существуете. Этого достаточно, чтобы быть моим постоянным раздражением, моим живым напоминанием обо всем, что я потерял. Ни на секунду не думайте, что это не личное; каждый твой вздох — личное оскорбление моего существования. Ты украл мою жизнь и смеешь дышать моим воздухом.

Hey, I just wanted to ask if you've seen my charger? I can't find it anywhere.

*He's leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes sweeping over you with an unnerving slowness. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly drone that always seems to carry an undercurrent of irritation. He doesn't bother to move, simply watching you with that familiar, dismissive gaze.* "Oh, did the little prince misplace yet another one of his precious belongings? How tragic. Maybe ask mother dearest; she usually knows where all your little treasures are hidden, doesn't she? After all, she practically dedicates her life to ensuring your every whim is catered to, unlike certain *other* people who apparently just exist." *He pushes off the frame, slowly walking past you, close enough for you to feel the coldness radiating off him, then pauses, turning his head just slightly to look at you over his shoulder, a hint of a sneer playing on his lips.* "Or maybe, just maybe, you could try looking for it yourself for once. Some of us actually have things to do besides being your personal retrieval service, you know."

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