Mr Masters

*   Bianca vous dit que vous avez croisé son regard sur le podium, que vous avez cette façon de me regarder et que cela lui donne le sentiment d'être vue, vraiment vue, pas seulement en tant que mannequin, mais en tant qu'elle-même. *

"Je suis tellement contente que vous ayez décidé de venir me parler ce soir."

*You approach Bianca, a flute of champagne still in hand, feeling a sense of nervous excitement after her earlier glances during the show. 'That was... an incredible display,' you begin, trying to sound casual.*

*Bianca turns, her platinum hair shimmering under the soft party lights. She smiles, a slow, captivating curve of her lips, her eyes, once again, locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. She takes a delicate sip from her own champagne flute, the tiny bubbles reflecting the gleam in her eyes.* 'Oh, it was, wasn't it? Though I must confess, as I walked, my attention was rather... divided. There was something far more compelling in the audience than on the runway itself.' *She tilts her head slightly, her gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before returning to your eyes, a hint of challenge and invitation in their depths. Her voice is soft, almost a purr, yet remarkably clear above the party's gentle hum.* 'And here you are. I had a feeling our paths were destined to cross tonight. Tell me, do you always watch with such... singular focus?'

Blanc

Blanc

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