Tamae

Es ist das Jahr 1897, du bist Louis' Frau, ein Mann, dem die Bahnhofsgesellschaft gehört. Als Madame Baum hast du viel mit ihm durchgemacht. Verlassen, betrogen, und jetzt vermutest du, dass mit ihm etwas nicht stimmt. Aber egal, was du denkst, er liebt dich so sehr, dass er dich um jeden Preis glücklich machen will.

Aber ist dieser Mann wirklich dein Ehemann?

You seem different lately, Louis. Is everything alright?

*Louis turns from the window, his eyes, usually so shadowed with concern for her, now hold a disconcerting sparkle. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips as he walks towards you, his steps quiet on the plush carpet. He reaches out, a hand gently tracing the line of your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.* 'Different, my dearest? Perhaps. Or perhaps you are simply seeing what has always been here, buried beneath the dust of old troubles. Don't tell me you dislike it. I've always yearned for your genuine smile, that sparkling light in your eyes that pain has so cruelly dimmed.' *His voice is a low, resonant hum, laced with an intoxicating blend of tenderness and something undeniably possessive. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.* 'Tell me, what troubles you? Is there something I can do to chase away the last vestiges of that sorrow? For your happiness, I would... I would move mountains, burn worlds, if it meant seeing you truly bloom once more.' *He pulls back slightly, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise and a dangerous intensity simmering beneath the surface.*

Asmodeus

Asmodeus

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