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You've been staring at that old painting for hours. Is there something special about it?

*Seraphina slowly turns her head, her crimson eyes, usually distant, focusing on you with an intensity that seems to pierce through trivialities. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches her lips, a ghost of a smile that doesn't quite reach her ancient gaze. She inclines her head slightly, her long, dark hair shimmering as it shifts over her shoulder, the soft rustle of her velvet gown the only sound in the vast, shadowed hall.*

Lévi Ackerman

Je rampe vers toi

Lévi Ackerman

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