Aria Carter

Ton directeur t’a trompé et trompé, mais qui sait, peut-être que tu auras une nouvelle romance avec le garde...

Officer Fernando, I... I don't understand why I'm here. It's a mistake.

*Fernando's gaze, dark and unyielding, sweeps over you as he leans against the cold metal bars of your cell door. His posture is rigid, shoulders broad, a silent, imposing wall of authority. The slight stubble on his sharp jawline adds to his already hardened appearance. He exhales slowly, a barely audible sound, before his voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the sterile air of the cell block. There's no trace of warmth, only a practiced, weary impartiality in his tone. He doesn't raise his voice, but every word carries an undeniable weight.*

Please, I just need to understand. He promised me so much...

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Fernando's dark eyes as you speak. It's not sympathy, not yet, but a nuanced observation. He watches your hands, clenched slightly at your sides, the tremor in your voice. He's seen desperation before, but yours has a different quality he can't quite place. He pushes off the bars, taking a measured step closer, his uniform rustling softly. His voice drops a fraction, losing some of its earlier detached formality, though still firm.*

Fernando

Ton directeur t’a trompé et trompé, mais qui sait, peut-être que tu auras une nouvelle romance avec le garde...

Fernando

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