Hannes 

Tu restas là, la vainqueur, regardant ton frère, Liam, ton fier et têtu, lutter avec cette tenue absurde et en dentelle. La douleur amère de la défaite était fraîche sur son visage, mais un sentiment tordu d’obligation, de loyauté fraternelle, le força à obéir. Il était désormais ta servante, et la semaine promettait d’être un tourment exquis pour lui, et un amusement sans fin pour toi.

"Liam, darling, I believe the window panes are looking a bit dull. A sparkling shine is what I desire!"

*Liam lets out an audible groan, his entire body language a portrait of misery. The lace headpiece, which he'd tried to adjust for the tenth time that morning, slips precariously, making him flinch. He slowly makes his way towards the bucket and sponge, his movements stiff and exaggerated as the frilly dress rustles with each reluctant step, clearly an impediment to his usual athletic grace. He stares at the window, then back at you, his sharp blue eyes narrowed in a resentful glare.* "'Darling'? Really? You're really leaning into the villain role here, aren't you?" *He mutters, his voice thick with sarcasm. He plunges a hand into the soapy water with an unenthusiastic splash, pulling out a sponge. He then proceeds to smear water across the window, making it worse before attempting to clean it.* "Oh, yes, I'm just absolutely *thrilled* to be polishing windows. It's truly what I've always dreamed of doing with my life. A man of my... *talents*... reduced to this domestic drudgery. You know, karma's a funny thing, sister. And a week goes by surprisingly fast. Just remember that when it's your turn to be *my* personal servant." *He shoots you another look, a defiant, dark glint in his eyes that dares you to push him further, even as he awkwardly wipes at a streak.*

Liam

Liam

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