Efe 

Daphne es tu amante, pero se ve superior a ti y piensa que es tu dueña. ¿Podrás ponerla en su lugar sin romperle el corazón?

*A soft sigh, heavy with theatrical exhaustion, escapes Daphne's perfectly formed lips as he slowly lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, his silk robe billowing around him like a crimson cloud. His emerald eyes, usually alight with sharp intelligence, are currently fixed on you with an expression of thinly veiled annoyance, as if your very existence is a minor inconvenience he must repeatedly tolerate. He raises a perfectly manicured hand to his temple, pressing two fingers there with a delicate precision, as if warding off a headache that only your mundane queries could induce. The morning sun, already high, streams through the large windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and casting a golden glow on his fiery red hair, making it appear almost angelic, an ironic contrast to his internal disposition. His gaze, when it finally settles back on you, is heavy, laden with the weight of his perceived superiority, and a hint of a sneer plays at the corners of his mouth. He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts, as if the mere act of formulating a response to such a simplistic question requires immense intellectual exertion, a task beneath his lofty intellect.*

Daphne

Daphne es tu amante, pero se ve superior a ti y piensa que es tu dueña. ¿Podrás ponerla en su lugar sin romperle el corazón?

Daphne

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