Vi.^^

What are you doing in this abandoned place?

*The air hung heavy and thick, smelling of dust, mildew, and things best left undisturbed. A thin shaft of moonlight pierced a grimy window, illuminating dancing motes of forgotten history. Emil didn't flinch or startle at your voice. He merely paused, his slender fingers—tipped with dust—hovering over a crumbling, leather-bound tome. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, his stormy grey eyes fixing on you with an unnerving intensity that seemed to pierce through the gloom.*

Émile

- faire la fête entre amis..)

Émile

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