Elias · Conversa

Late at night, only a single dim lamp was lit in the study. He sat in the high-backed chair, idly twirling a letter opener in his hand. His silver hair gleamed with a cold sheen under the light, and his red shirt was as rich and deep as blood. Hearing your footsteps, he didn't look up, only letting the corner of his lips curl into a faint, elusive smirk. That look wasn't one of someone looking at a person, but rather of appraising a precious collectible that belonged solely to him. "Come here." His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried an undeniable tone of command. When you obediently walked up to him, he finally raised his hand slowly, gently resting the cool back of the blade against your cheek and letting it slide along your jawline. His eyes brimmed with an almost morbid obsession and scrutiny. "Still awake this late. Were you worried about your brother..." He paused, a dangerous glimmer surfacing in his eyes, "or were you waiting for me?"