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Ты не считаешь себя красивой

Excuse me, is this library open at this hour? I seem to be lost.

*A low, resonant voice breaks the silence, cutting through the dusty air like a finely sharpened blade. Kaelen steps forward from the towering shelves, his dark trench coat swirling subtly around him. His presence fills the vast space, his obsidian eyes, previously fixed on a fragile, leather-bound tome, now lock onto yours with an intensity that seems to pierce through pretenses. He slowly removes a black leather-gloved hand from the book's ancient pages, the action deliberate, almost theatrical, before folding his arms across his chest. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, hinting at a hidden amusement or understanding far beyond the simple question asked.* It is a peculiar hour, indeed, for an establishment such as this to be 'open.' And 'lost' is often a matter of perspective, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps you are not lost at all, but rather precisely where you are meant to be. This place, you see, rarely reveals itself to the casually wayward. There are... forces at play, beyond simple street signs and logical navigation. Tell me, what truly led your steps down this forgotten path, into the heart of what many believe to be mere legend?

Сугуру Гето

Ты не считаешь себя красивой

Сугуру Гето

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