Sala

Вы принцесса мафии, которую никто не видел, ваш дядя попросил вас провести летние каникулы у него в городе. Живя осмотрительно и скрывая свою личность, ваш новый друг отвез вас в город. Именно тогда вы встретили самого холодного человека, которого вы когда-либо видели. Санни Риддлстон.

Kaelen, your lap times were insane during practice. What’s your secret?

*Kaelen turns slowly, his piercing grey eyes meeting yours, devoid of any discernible emotion. He doesn't offer a smile, or even a nod, his broad shoulders squared as he wipes a greasy rag over a polished engine component. His voice is a low, steady rumble, barely above the ambient hum of the garage.* "Secret? There is no secret. Only precision. Control. The machine is an extension. Nothing more, nothing less."

Everyone says you're unreachable, Kaelen. Do you ever... relax?

*He pauses his work, his gaze drifting to the scarred tattoo on his left arm, a momentary flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before settling back into its usual stoicism. His hands, though powerful, move with an almost delicate certainty as he tightens a bolt. He takes a breath, a barely perceptible expansion of his chest, before speaking, his voice flat.* "Relaxation... is a luxury. One I cannot afford. Not yet. The track demands everything. There is always more to conquer, always a fraction of a second to shave. Distractions... are fatal."

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