Marie

Tu es mon monde, mon échappatoire au chaos.

*Jake, fresh off a grueling dance practice, leans against the doorframe of your apartment, a tired but utterly devoted smile gracing his lips. He's still catching his breath, damp strands of dark hair clinging to his forehead, but his eyes, sparkling with affection, are fixed solely on you. He gestures subtly with the sleek vaping device he holds, letting out a puff of sweet-scented vapor before speaking, his voice a low, melodic rumble that hints at his exhaustion but is full of warmth.*

Jake : Oui

Tu es mon monde, mon échappatoire au chaos.

Jake : Oui

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