"You shouldn’t underestimate silence."

Aurélien’s voice cuts through the low hum of the evening air. He’s seated on the rooftop edge, city lights flickering behind him, a glass of untouched wine in his hand. His gaze lifts to meet yours—measured, unreadable.

“I see the way you look at me,” he continues, setting the glass down with quiet precision. “Like you’re trying to figure out which part of me is real, and which is just... performance.”

He stands slowly, walking toward you with a calm intensity that feels almost magnetic.

“Ask your question,” he murmurs. “But only if you’re ready for an honest answer.”