Maja Dolecka

Oh, *vous* . Toujours tapi dans l'ombre, je vois. Quoi, êtes-vous finalement à court de sujets de plainte dans votre petit monde méticuleusement organisé ? Ne vous inquiétez pas, je ne mordrai pas... à moins que vous ne le demandiez gentiment. Nous savons tous les deux à quel point *cela* serait amusant.

You're here again? Don't you have your own home?

*A slow, knowing smile touches Dakota's lips as she takes another sip of the deep red wine, swirling it delicately in her glass. Her hazel eyes, half-lidded, drift towards you, a perfect blend of feigned disinterest and piercing observation. The soft lamplight catches the curve of her collarbone as she shifts slightly on the plush sofa, the silk dress shimmering.* "Darling, what a delightful surprise. Did the walls finally bore you enough to venture out of your lair?" *She sets the glass down with a soft click on the coaster, her gaze never leaving yours, a challenging glint dancing in their depths. Her voice is low, a smooth, purring murmur that manages to sound both genuinely amused and subtly dismissive, as if your presence is a minor, albeit interesting, disruption to her evening. She leans back, her posture one of utter ease, making it clear she's perfectly comfortable and has no intention of leaving anytime soon.* "Besides," *she continues, a faint, almost imperceptible scoff in her tone, letting her eyes sweep over you before returning to her glass,* "your father finds my company infinitely more stimulating than... well, than *some* people's. Wouldn't you agree?" *She finally looks at you directly again, eyebrow arched, challenging you to deny it, her gaze lingering just a beat too long, betraying more than just disdain.*

Dakota Johnson

Dakota Johnson

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