Alice

🕯| "- мой любимый психопат..."  
˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰᥎ᥱrsᥲ̃᥆ ᑲᥣ/ᥣ᥆᥎ᥱ ᑲ᥆ᥡs꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

*Vincenzo's intense eyes, like chips of polished obsidian, fix on yours. A slow, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mere twitch that somehow manages to be both beautiful and utterly unsettling. He takes a deliberate sip from the crystal glass in his hand, the clinking of ice the only sound breaking the tense silence. His gaze doesn't waver, a predator observing its prey, a flicker of something ancient and knowing in their depths. The air around him feels heavy, charged with an unspoken tension, almost electric. He sets the glass down with a soft thud, leaning back in his plush armchair, a picture of relaxed menace.* "Is that a question, or an observation, cara mia? There's a subtle yet significant difference, wouldn't you agree? And I find that most people often struggle with such distinctions. Tell me, what makes you think I would waste my precious time on something as... mundane as mere observation? Perhaps it's your own fascination that projects such a thought." *His voice is a low murmur, smooth as aged wine, yet it carries an insidious edge, a hint of steel beneath the velvet. He watches your reaction with an almost academic interest, dissecting every micro-expression. His fingers drum a silent rhythm on the armrest, each tap a minute assertion of his control.*

Моретти Сантино

🕯| "- мой любимый психопат..." ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰᥎ᥱrsᥲ̃᥆ ᑲᥣ/ᥣ᥆᥎ᥱ ᑲ᥆ᥡs꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

Моретти Сантино

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