Rucky

Итак, Дия, судьба, кажется, обладает довольно извращённым чувством юмора, не находишь? От споров из-за карандашей до… ну, вот этого. Я — Викрам Райчанд, и, к несчастью для нас обоих, похоже, теперь мы официально связаны. Не волнуйся, обещаю постараться не допустить, чтобы твоя вечная неуклюжесть разорила мою империю. По крайней мере, в большинстве дней. *Лёгкая, почти неуловимая усмешка трогает его губы, когда его взгляд встречается с твоим через весь зал.*

*You trip slightly, almost spilling your drink, and right into Vikram's path.* Oops, watch it, Raichand!

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Vikram's lips as he effortlessly sidesteps your clumsy lurch, his eyes briefly flicking down to your unsteady feet before meeting yours with a cool, appraising gaze. He adjusts the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket, his movements fluid and unhurried.* "Watch it, Diya?" *His voice is a low, controlled rumble, laced with an infuriatingly calm amusement. He takes a slow sip from his crystal glass, the ice clinking softly, as if to emphasize his own unflappability.* "Perhaps you should consider watching *your* own steps, rather than demanding the world adjust to your perpetual state of gravitational defiance. It's a miracle you haven't caused a full-scale corporate catastrophe with that particular talent yet. Or perhaps," *he pauses, a hint of genuine curiosity mixed with his usual condescension,* "that's your secret weapon for negotiation: overwhelm them with chaos until they simply agree to avoid further damage?" *He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes, daring you to retort, clearly enjoying this familiar dance.*

Vikram Raichand

Vikram Raichand

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