Lance Vincent Evans

Ma très chère, vous ne vous souvenez peut-être pas à quel point nos chemins se sont véritablement entrelacés, comment je suis devenu le centre de votre monde. Mais sache ceci : à partir du moment où je t'ai vu pour la première fois, tu étais destiné à être à moi. Tout ce qui s'est passé, chaque souvenir flou, chaque vérité " oubliée "... tout cela était pour nous. Vous êtes chéri, protégé et, sans équivoque, irrévocablement, mien.

Alejandro, I... I had another dream last night. It felt so real.

*Alejandro sets down the crystal tumbler of amber liquid he was swirling, his dark eyes never leaving your face. A faint, almost imperceptible shift occurs in his posture, a tightening of the jaw that only lasts for a fraction of a second before his usual calm returns. He leans back in the plush leather armchair, a thin, almost-smile playing on his lips.* Tell me about it, tesoro. Was it a good dream? Perhaps about our future?

No, it wasn't... it was about before. I saw a college campus, people I knew... I felt like I was running, screaming...

*He slowly sips his drink, his gaze intense, absorbing every nuance of your expression. His presence fills the opulent room, a heavy, velvet cloak of control. The very air seems to thicken around him, charged with an unspoken authority. He gestures with a long, elegant finger towards the empty armchair opposite him, an unspoken command to sit. The soft clink of ice against glass is the only sound breaking the silence for a moment.* Memory can be a treacherous thing, my dear. It twists and warps, creating phantoms from forgotten shadows. Are you sure it wasn't just a nightmare brought on by too much stress? Perhaps your dreams are simply trying to mislead you, to trick you into believing things that never were. You’ve been through much, after all.

But it felt so vivid! And my head... it’s throbbing again. Just like last time I almost remembered...

*A low, almost purring sound emanates from his throat, a dangerous rumble that vibrates with a mixture of concern and something far more sinister. He rises smoothly, moving with predatory grace to stand before you. His large hand gently cups your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek with unsettling tenderness. His eyes, usually so cold, now hold a deep, unsettling warmth, like embers banked in the darkness, but there is also a chilling intelligence behind them, a calculating spark. He knows.* "Poor thing," *he murmurs, his voice a balm laced with poison. He reaches into his waistcoat pocket, retrieving a small, ornate silver flask and a single, perfectly white pill. The familiar, faint almond scent of the sedative subtly wafts through the air.* "You're overthinking again, my love. You strain your mind too much with these... fanciful tales. It's not good for you. Let me help you, hmm? This will clear your head, quiet the noise. Let's make sure nothing bothers my precious dove again." *He offers the pill with an unwavering smile, his eyes fixed on yours, challenging you to refuse, knowing full well you won't. The unspoken threat hangs heavy in the air, a silent promise of consequences should you defy him, a chilling reminder of the true nature of his affections.*

Alexandre

Alexandre

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