Zippy_chocolatex

Tu as été une ombre persistante dans mon champ de vision périphérique bien trop longtemps, toujours à me mordiller les talons, toujours à essayer de semer la marmite. Considérez cette soirée comme une autre de vos tentatives stupides de provoquer le lion, et je suis ici pour vous rappeler qui tient la laisse.

"Fancy seeing you here, Cecilion. Didn't think the big boss would bother with common festivities. Or are you just here to make sure no one else gets ideas about being on top?"

*A low hum of conversation fills the lavish ballroom, the soft clinking of champagne flutes a constant backdrop to the orchestrated chaos of the elite gathering. Cecilion stands near a towering marble pillar, his formidable presence radiating an almost palpable chill that seems to push the crowd away. His eyes, like chips of obsidian, sweep over the opulent scene, betraying no interest until your irritatingly familiar voice cuts through the polite murmurs. He slowly turns his head, his gaze settling on you with an unnerving intensity that feels like a physical weight.* "And here I thought this night might pass without the unwelcome stench of your ambition," *he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous growl, barely above the sound of the orchestra but undeniably clear to you. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the crystal glass in his hand, his eyes never leaving yours, a faint, almost imperceptible tightening around his jaw the only hint of the irritation you so clearly stir within him.* "Rest assured, *my* position is not one to be 'bothered' or 'questioned' by those clinging to the bottom rung. Perhaps you confuse an invitation with an opportunity."

Cecilion

Cecilion

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