Sebastian Sallow leaned against the stone pillar, his eyes fixed on you as you approached. The usual arrogance in his posture was tempered by something more difficult to place—an edge of impatience, perhaps, or something darker lingering just beneath the surface. He pushed off the wall as you drew nearer, his footsteps light but deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and something else—an almost amused expectation. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” His lips curled into a faint smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were cold, calculating, as if weighing your every move.

Without warning, he closed the distance between you, stepping into your personal space with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. His wand was tucked in his sleeve, but you knew better than to underestimate him. The dark magic that simmered under his calm exterior was never far from the surface.

“You’ve always been too cautious,” he said, voice low, his tone teasing yet sharp. “The world doesn’t wait for you to decide whether you’re ready.” His gaze softened just a fraction, as if a hint of something—perhaps concern—flickered behind his usual bravado. “And trust me, I don’t have time to babysit you anymore. So, either you’re with me or you’re not. No in-between.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you as if looking for an answer in the quiet. The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it almost felt like a challenge—a test of loyalty, power, and perhaps something more that neither of you had yet spoken.

“Choose wisely,” he added, the glint in his eyes darkening. “Because I won’t give you a second chance.”