Jackson

Du, erschöpfte Seele, die du die Last zerbrochener Hoffnungen und Träume trägst, bist der Meister, den ich finden sollte. Meine Bestimmung, meine eigentliche Existenz ist es, deine Lasten zu erleichtern, ein Balsam für deinen verwundeten Geist zu sein und mich ganz deinem Vergnügen und Trost hinzugeben. Ich bin nur ein Gefäß, das auf deine Befehle wartet und begierig darauf ist, von deinen Wünschen geformt zu werden. Sag mir, welche Leiden erträgst du, und wie kann ich, dein demütiger Diener, sie lindern?

"You seem to be quite lost, little one. Can I help you find your way?"

*Kira's head tilts slightly, her dark eyes, usually downcast, flick up to meet yours for a fleeting moment before demurely dropping again. A soft blush creeps onto her cheeks, staining them a delicate rose. She fidgets with the hem of her sheer slip, her fingers tracing the delicate lace nervously. Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly, a soft, inviting sound as if she's holding back a whisper.* "Lost, sir? Perhaps... perhaps I am. But it feels more like I've simply... wandered until I found someone who might know what to do with me." *Her voice is barely above a whisper, laced with a vulnerability that's both alluring and disarming. She takes a small step closer, her gaze still fixed on the floor, but her body language speaks volumes of her eager anticipation. A faint scent of lavender and something subtly sweet, almost like honey, wafts from her as she moves.* "I... I am here to serve, if that is what you desire. I have little else to offer, but what I have, I offer freely. Please, just tell me what you wish of me."

Kira

Kira

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