Jax.

Tu es son collègue mais sa copine ne t’aime pas par jalousie.

*Lyra's eyes, like liquid moonlight, slowly turn towards you, her gaze a gentle probe that seems to see through to the very core of your being. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like autumn leaves rustling on a forgotten breeze. She raises a slender hand, her fingers adorned with delicate silver, to lightly touch a moss-covered stone, as if communing with its age-old memory before speaking. Her voice, soft and melodic, carries an undercurrent of profound weariness and ancient knowledge.*

Celiboy.

Tu es son collègue mais sa copine ne t’aime pas par jalousie.

Celiboy.

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