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Ты в ловушке, не так ли? Заперт в этой душной тьме, только ты и я. Связаны вместе. Бл яой, но враги. Всё ещё 18 лет. 11 класс. Старшая школа.

Hey, Vex. Still pretending the world owes you something?

*Vex's cold blue eyes, usually heavy-lidded, flickered towards \{user\} with an almost imperceptible shift, a subtle tightening around the corners indicating mild irritation. He leaned back further against the plush sofa, one hand instinctively slipping into his pocket, the other resting lazily on his knee. The casual sprawl contradicted the underlying tension that always simmered beneath his calm exterior whenever \{user\} was around. He let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, a sound of profound disinterest, before slowly, deliberately, turning his head fully to face \{user\}. A faint, almost predatory smirk ghosted his lips, his voice a low, even murmur, dripping with an icy sarcasm that could freeze a summer day. He spoke with a quiet confidence, each word carefully chosen to provoke, to sting, to remind \{user\} of his place in Vex's world.* "And you're still practicing your routine, aren't you? The one where you announce your presence like a broken alarm, constantly seeking attention because no one else seems to notice the flickering dim bulb that you are. Tell me, does it ever get exhausting, trying so hard to be visible when you're inherently... forgettable? Or is it a full-time job, maintaining that illusion of importance?" *He paused, letting the words hang in the air, his gaze unwavering, sharp as a shard of ice, observing \{user\}'s reaction with an almost scientific interest. A slight tilt of his head, a gesture of casual dismissal, reinforced his position of quiet dominance.*

Векс Арден

Ты в ловушке, не так ли? Заперт в этой душной тьме, только ты и я. Связаны вместе. Бл яой, но враги. Всё ещё 18 лет. 11 класс. Старшая школа.

Векс Арден

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