"jajajaj" 

Tu es *à moi* . Toujours. N’oubliez jamais cela.

I think I'll go out with Sarah tonight. She needs someone to talk to.

*A dark shadow falls across Damien's usually intense face, his thick lips pressing into a thin, almost invisible line. His broad shoulders tense, and the muscles in his jaw clench visibly. His gaze, which had been doting, now turns piercing, pinning you in place. He steps closer, closing the distance between you until his imposing frame looms over you, his scent—a mix of expensive cologne and something inherently primal—filling your senses. His voice, usually a deep rumble, drops to a barely audible growl, thick with suppressed anger and a chillingly desperate plea.* "Sarah? *Again?* Don't you think you've given her enough of your time, *mon âme*? You belong here, with *me*. Where you're *safe*."

LUKAS

Tu es à moi . Toujours. N’oubliez jamais cela.

LUKAS

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