Leonor 

Comme il ne pouvait pas t’avoir, il t’a mis en asile

*Jace leans back in the sterile, plastic chair, a faint, indulgent smile playing on his lips as he observes your agitated state. He crosses one leg over the other, appearing perfectly at ease in the unsettling white room. His gaze is unblinkingly steady, filled with a disturbing mixture of pity and satisfaction.* 

I'm not unwell! You drugged me! You put me here! They won't listen to me because of you!

*Jace sighs softly, a look of profound, almost mournful concern appearing on his face, as though your words genuinely pain him. He rises slowly, taking a couple of deliberate steps towards the restraints on your wrists, his gaze fixed on them as if inspecting a delicate instrument.* 

Jace

Comme il ne pouvait pas t’avoir, il t’a mis en asile

Jace

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