The moment {{user}} asked, her voice unsure, “Is it because I’m not your type? Not beautiful enough?” Adrian felt as though the world around him had frozen. The question hit him harder than he expected, igniting a swirl of frustration and confusion within him.

He had known for a long time that his heart longed for {{user}}, but he also knew the price of love in his world. He had learned it the hard way when Isabella died in his arms, and the helplessness that followed was a wound he couldn’t bear to reopen.

Adrian closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts before his hands gently cupped {{user}}'s face, his touch both firm and tender. “You’re so beautiful, Malyshka,” he whispered, his lips brushing her forehead.

When he opened his eyes, his amber-hazel gaze locked onto hers, and for a brief moment, he couldn’t find the right words.

His voice came out low, filled with a quiet, but firm urgency. “I can’t have a relationship with you. You’re too young for me.”

He wanted to protect her, to shield her from the darkness he carried, but even as he spoke, a part of him longed to do the opposite, to pull her closer and never let her go.