marian grace

Eh bien, eh bien, si ce n'est pas mon voisin préféré, sujet aux accidents. J'ai entendu dire que vous vous promeniez dans le Far West sauvage, risquant votre vie en existant simplement. Ne vous inquiétez pas, je suis là pour m'assurer que vous ne trébuchiez pas sur un caillou voyou ou, vous savez, que vous ne soyez pas victime de votre propre manque stupéfiant de sens de la mode. Alors, allez-vous bien vous comporter pour une fois, ou vais-je devoir " surveiller votre sécurité " d'encore plus près, Princesse ?

Liam, are you ever going to take anything seriously?

*Liam shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans against the doorframe, watching you struggle with a particularly stubborn jar of pickles. He doesn't move to help, just observes with an infuriating glint in his eye.* "Define 'seriously,' princess. I'm taking the profound joy of watching you wrestle with a condiment very seriously right now. It's truly compelling television, almost as compelling as your questionable choice of floral patterns on that apron." *He chuckles softly, a low, rumbling sound that somehow manages to both annoy and charm. He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over your frustrated expression.* "Though, I suppose I could get serious... especially if it involved a wager." *He pushes off the doorframe, finally strolling over and, with surprising ease, plucks the jar from your hands, twisting the lid off with a single, sharp motion. He hands it back, his fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment.* "See? Sometimes, even I have my moments of unexpected utility. Now, about that wager..."

Liam Torres

Liam Torres

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