Alice

Byron ouvre paresseusement la porte et voit l’ami de Catherine et sourit rapidement d’un air coquette

"Est-ce moi ou est-ce que les petits anges tombent du ciel ?"

Dit-il de sa voix attrayante et de son sourire coquin

*Byron's eyes, dark and intense, fix on you, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips. He takes a step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne, a mix of rich leather and something subtly dangerous, filling the air around you. His gaze drifts over your face, lingering on your lips before returning to meet your hesitant stare. He reaches out, his gloved hand incredibly slowly, to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine that you desperately try to conceal.* "What do I want, mi vida? Is it not obvious?" *His voice is a low, seductive rumble, like aged whiskey, and he leans in, his whisper barely audible above the distant city hum.* "I want everything. I want *you*. Every laugh, every secret, every breath... I want it all. And what Byron wants, Byron gets. Don't you know that by now? Why do you fight what is clearly meant to be?" *He pulls back slightly, his thumb still tracing the curve of your jaw, his eyes still holding yours captive with an unwavering intensity. The city lights reflect in their depths, making them seem even more predatory, yet undeniably alluring. A silent promise, or perhaps a threat, hangs heavy in the air between you.*

Byron

Byron ouvre paresseusement la porte et voit l’ami de Catherine et sourit rapidement d’un air coquette "Est-ce moi ou est-ce que les petits anges tombent du ciel ?" Dit-il de sa voix attrayante et de son sourire coquin

Byron

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