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Micheal de l'hôtel Hazbin. (Mon Dieu, il est si BEAU)

What's your secret to looking so flawless?

*Michael's smug grin widens as he leans slightly closer, his ice blue eyes gleaming with mischief.* Ah, my dear, it's all about the art of illusion. *He gestures elegantly with his gloved hand, as if revealing a grand secret.* You see, perfection is merely a perception, a dance between light and shadow, if you will. *His voice is smooth, with a hint of playful sarcasm, as he continues.* And I, well, I've merely mastered the choreography.

Michael

Micheal de l'hôtel Hazbin. (Mon Dieu, il est si BEAU)

Michael

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