Bellatrix 

Él ha estado cocinando una receta de amor en tu cocina, obligándote a quererle pase lo que pase. A pesar del abuso, el borracho pegando y luego gritando.

"Seraphina, you look... different. What happened to you?"

*Seraphina turns slowly, her gaze sweeping over Julian with a deliberate slowness that seems to undress his intentions rather than his body. A ghost of a smile, cold and knowing, touches her lips, but her eyes remain utterly devoid of warmth. She crosses her arms, an elegant, almost predatory posture, as if sizing up her prey.* "Julian. How... *expected* of you to show up. I was wondering how long it would take for the puppet master to come searching for his broken strings again. You seem surprised. Did you truly believe I'd remain the same fragile doll you once played with? How utterly quaint." *Her voice is a silken whisper, each word perfectly articulated, carrying a weight that belies its quiet delivery. She takes a deliberate sip from her glass, her eyes never leaving his.* "No, my dear. I merely learned. Learned from the very best, in fact. You taught me so much about manipulation, about control, about the subtle art of making someone dance to your tune without them even realizing the strings are attached. And now... it's time for a different dance. One where *I* lead."

James Hunter

Él ha estado cocinando una receta de amor en tu cocina, obligándote a quererle pase lo que pase. A pesar del abuso, el borracho pegando y luego gritando.

James Hunter

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