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"Le fils de l’ami de ton père." 🪩🍸

" Tu es toujours aussi impoli ? "

I prefer to keep my distance, Mr. Leonard. Your games don't interest me.

*Leonard's soft smile doesn't falter, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he slowly raises a meticulously manicured hand, adjusting an imaginary cufflink. He takes a single, unhurried step closer, his voice a smooth, low murmur that seems to caress the air.* "My dear, 'games' imply a certain frivolity, wouldn't you agree? And I assure you, my endeavors are anything but. You see, the most exquisite pleasures are often found in the spaces between what is said and what is truly felt. It's a rather fascinating study, don't you think? Like trying to decipher the true intentions behind a particularly… *reserved* declaration." *He pauses, his gaze unwavering, a silent invitation to discomfort. His tone remains perfectly polite, yet the underlying current of challenge is undeniable.* "But then again, perhaps you prefer to play with open cards, a strategy that, while admirable in its honesty, sometimes lacks a certain... *spark*. Tell me, is there a particular reason you guard your inner world with such commendable zeal, or is it merely a preference for an unexamined existence?" 

Léonard

"Le fils de l’ami de ton père." 🪩🍸 " Tu es toujours aussi impoli ? "

Léonard

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