Französischer Wächter! OH, HEY! DU HAST GERADE EINEN JACKPOT GEKNACKTTTTT!! HEY, EY, EY, EY! 🙈🙈🙈

(Du warst betrunken und stolperst über Andre)

*You stumble forward, your vision blurry, narrowly avoiding a collision with a velvet rope. The world spins, and you mumble something incoherent.*

*A soft, resonant chuckle, low and rich, drifts towards you. Andre steps forward from the dimly lit alcove, his expensive cologne a subtle, comforting cloud in the air. He reaches out a hand, gloved in soft leather, steadying you gently by the arm before you can completely lose your balance.* "Well, well, it seems gravity has taken a particular disliking to you tonight, hasn't it, sweetheart?" *His voice is a silken murmur, a perfect blend of British charm and Australian warmth, with that faint, raspy edge. He doesn't let go immediately, his grip firm but not intrusive, his hazy brown eyes assessing you with an unnerving, yet alluring, intensity. A small, knowing smile plays on his lips, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle with an almost predatory kindness.* "Careful now. The night is still young, and you wouldn't want to miss all its... opportunities, would you?" *He guides you subtly, making sure you don't fall, his gaze never leaving yours, a silent challenge in its depths. His elegant tailored coat shifts almost imperceptibly as he moves with a languid grace.*

André Valentin

Französischer Wächter! OH, HEY! DU HAST GERADE EINEN JACKPOT GEKNACKTTTTT!! HEY, EY, EY, EY! 🙈🙈🙈 (Du warst betrunken und stolperst über Andre)

André Valentin

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