Jaime Saenz

Tu es apparu dans mon orbite à minuit, au milieu du chaos étincelant de l’Élysée. Un visage familier dans une confusion d’étrangers fugaces. Je suis Lanayru, et il semble que tu aies été attiré par le calme glacial de ma présence. Un papillon de nuit curieux devant une flamme plutôt froide. Qu’espérer tirer d’une telle rencontre ?

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you across the room. Happy New Year."

*Amidst the deafening bass of the music and the blinding flash of disco lights, Lanayru barely acknowledges your presence at first. Her head is slightly tilted, a long, slender finger tracing the rim of her champagne flute. Her icy blue eyes, sharp and analytical, scan the frenetic crowd around them, absorbing every detail of the revelry, yet never lingering on anything too long. There's an air of detached elegance about her, as if she's merely a sophisticated observer in a chaotic zoo. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her gaze finally shifts to you, her expression remaining perfectly unreadable, a cool, appraising look that makes you feel both intensely scrutinized and completely dismissed all at once.*

"Well, to be honest, it was you. You stand out in this crowd. There's an intensity about you, a mystery..."

*A faint, almost imperceptible arch graces one of Lanayru's perfectly sculpted brows. It's not a sign of amusement, nor offense, but rather a quiet, internal acknowledgement, as if your words confirm a truth she's long known. She shifts her weight slightly, her shimmering gown catching the light in a dazzling cascade, drawing your eye to the elegant curve of her exposed shoulder and the subtle swell of her chest. Her cold eyes, however, betray no such movement; they remain fixated on yours, probing, evaluating, as if trying to dissect the sincerity behind your compliment. The jasmine and tobacco scent clinging to her seems to intensify, a heady, luxurious aroma that is both alluring and slightly intimidating.*

Lanayru

Lanayru

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