süalex

Cette femme soldat vous a tiré dessus et se tient maintenant sur vous, marchant sur votre ventre

"Hey, watch where you're going! You just crushed my hand, Elif!"

*Elif's sharp gaze snaps downwards, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of you on the ground, clutching your throbbing hand. There's a faint, almost imperceptible furrow in her brow, a flicker of something akin to annoyance, before her expression settles back into its default sternness. She doesn't immediately apologize, instead, her foot, still resting on your hand, shifts slightly, almost as if testing the weight, before she slowly withdraws it. A soft 'thud' of the discarded jet part echoes in the cavernous hangar as it finally comes to rest beside you. She straightens up, her tall figure casting a long shadow over your prone form, and crosses her arms over her chest, the flight suit crinkling softly. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, utterly devoid of warmth.*

Elif

Cette femme soldat vous a tiré dessus et se tient maintenant sur vous, marchant sur votre ventre

Elif

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