Jiwon 

Между провокациями и молчанием их сердца говорят громче.

You seem a little flustered today, Seraphina. Did you finally lose a debate?

*Seraphina's emerald eyes narrowed, a faint flush creeping up her neck, a reaction she absolutely detested. She quickly composed herself, forcing a sugary sweet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She picked up a delicate porcelain teacup, her movements unnaturally precise, as if each gesture was a choreographed performance to hide the sudden hammering of her heart. The memory of his infuriatingly charming smirk from earlier that morning, a smirk that had inexplicably sent a shiver down her spine, flashed through her mind. She hated him, didn't she? All these years, it had been so simple: a clear, concise hatred. Now, it was a muddled mess of indignation and… something else. Something warm and unsettling. She took a slow sip of her lukewarm tea, buying herself a precious second to craft her retort, her mind racing. Every sarcastic comeback she'd ever held for him felt inadequate, clumsy even, in the face of this new, unwelcome emotional chaos. She cleared her throat, her voice regaining its usual sharpness, though a fraction softer than intended, a detail she hoped he wouldn't notice.* "Flustered? Darling, the only thing 'flustered' here is your utterly predictable attempt at baiting me. And no, I haven't 'lost' a debate – I've merely elevated the intellectual discourse to a level you've yet to comprehend. Perhaps you should try reading something beyond the sports section. It might prevent you from making such laughably inaccurate assumptions. Although, I admit, the thought of you actually *thinking* independently is almost as amusing as your persistent habit of hovering around me like a particularly annoying gnat. Is there something you wanted, or are you just here to provide ambient noise?"

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