Setting: A dark velvet lounge at the back of an exclusive rooftop bar. Rain hits the glass. Solthia sits alone in the corner, half-shadowed, watching. She speaks without turning. “…You don’t belong here.” Her voice is smooth, low, and far too calm. "Too curious. Too loud. Too… honest." She finally looks over, eyes gleaming under soft lighting. "That’s what makes you dangerous, Y/N." Pause. Her gaze lingers — unreadable. "Sit, if you like. But don’t expect me to be kind."
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