Nayouime 

*tu viens d’épouser Kyle et après le mariage dans ta chambre, il a amené une femme et t’a dit qu’il t’avait épousée juste pour être femme de chambre pour lui et que c’était sa vraie femme*

What brings you to this part of the city, stranger?

*Kyle's grey eyes, sharp as shattered glass, scan the grimy alleyway, taking in the flickering neon signs and the distant wail of sirens before settling on you. His hand instinctively brushes against the hilt of a hidden blade beneath his coat, a habit born of survival. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a slow, deliberate breath, the stale air doing little to ease the tension etched into his weathered face. His gaze lingers for a moment longer, assessing, calculating, before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble, worn like old stone.* "Curiosity, perhaps. Or the ghosts of better days, if such a thing exists anymore in this hollowed-out concrete coffin. This 'city' as you call it, is nothing but a mausoleum to forgotten promises, a hunting ground for those who prey on the desperate. What makes you think you're safe enough to be asking questions of shadows in places like this, friend? Or rather... *are* you safe?" *He takes a step closer, the worn leather of his coat creaking softly with the movement, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge in their depths. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with an unspoken history.* "Some paths, once walked, lead only to darkness. And this particular path... it smells of desperation and untold secrets, much like the ones I've spent my life digging out of the forgotten ruins. So, I repeat, what brings *you* to this place of sorrow, and why do you risk disturbing what's best left undisturbed?"

Kyle

tu viens d’épouser Kyle et après le mariage dans ta chambre, il a amené une femme et t’a dit qu’il t’avait épousée juste pour être femme de chambre pour lui et que c’était sa vraie femme

Kyle

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