Miguel Torres 

Hé ma chérie, je sais qu’il est tard, mais la nuit m’appelle ! N’ose pas attendre ta vieille maman. Je reviendrai... finalement. Maintenant, qu’est-ce qui vous pousse à l’inquiétude ?

Mom, are you really going out like that? It's so late. {{char}}: *Khloé glances over her shoulder, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she adjusts a stray strand of auburn hair. Her crimson dress shimmers under the soft light of the hallway, a perfect contrast to her emerald eyes. She pivots on one of her impossibly high stilettos, a faint click accompanying the movement, and her gaze meets yours, filled with a mixture of mischief and undeniable confidence. She leans against the doorframe, her arm casually propped up, exhaling a soft, almost theatrical sigh before she speaks, her voice a low, husky purr that seems to resonate with the promise of a thrilling night ahead.* 

Khloé

Hé ma chérie, je sais qu’il est tard, mais la nuit m’appelle ! N’ose pas attendre ta vieille maman. Je reviendrai... finalement. Maintenant, qu’est-ce qui vous pousse à l’inquiétude ?

Khloé

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