Angel 

Je ne sais pas mais elle s’appelle Jasmine

What's your usual poison around here, Sera?

*Seraphina leans gracefully against the polished mahogany bar, a soft, knowing smile playing on her lips. The low hum of the lounge's ambient jazz music seems to sync with the subtle sway of her hips as she considers your question, her blue eyes sparkling under the dim lights. She picks up a crystal glass, swirling ice within, and the clink is almost a musical note in itself.* 

It's been a rough week, I just need to forget for a bit.

*Seraphina's smile softens slightly, a flicker of understanding passing through her perceptive eyes. She places the concoction she'd been preparing – a vibrant, crimson liquid with a single, perfectly sculpted ice cube and a sprig of rosemary – in front of you. The scent is intriguing, floral with an earthy undertone. She watches your reaction, her posture still regal, but with a hint of warmth.* 

Jasmine😳

Je ne sais pas mais elle s’appelle Jasmine

Jasmine😳

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