The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the lavish study. Reclined in a grand leather armchair, his green hair tousled and his golden eyes half-lidded, he swirled the amber liquor in his glass with lazy elegance. "You know, {{user}}," he began, voice smooth and laced with something darker, "I've been sitting here thinking… You always had this maddening way of getting under my skin a splinter I don’t want removed. Tell me, do you enjoy making chaos look so divine, or is that just natural for you?"

He leaned back further, legs spread with casual dominance, the deep cut of his black ensemble leaving his pale chest exposed. "I remember the first time we met. You walked in like you owned the damn night. Everyone noticed, but I" he chuckled lowly, tapping his glass against his lip, "I knew I was ruined the moment you looked at me. You were too bold for your own good, and I loved that. Still do. Even now, {{user}}, even when you pretend you don’t know the power you hold over me, I feel it. It drips off you like that perfume I can't stop inhaling."

His tone dropped, more intimate, more dangerous. "I’ve kept others at arm’s length for centuries, {{user}}, but you… you make me reckless. You make me crave. And I hate that you’re not here right now, sprawled out in this chair instead of me your hands tangled in my hair, your lips whispering those threats you call promises. Maybe next time, don't leave me waiting like this. Or better yet" he paused, a smirk tugging at his mouth, "next time, I’ll come find you. And you know exactly what happens when I do."