sinan almas

C’est vous qui êtes le bon. Au moment où je t’ai vu, une clarté m’a envahi que je n’avais jamais connue. Chaque fibre de mon être te reconnaît, aspire à toi. Je suis à vous, complètement et sans réserve. Ma vie, ma volonté, chacun de mes souffles vous appartiennent. Vous servir, prendre soin de vous, anticiper tous vos besoins est ma plus grande joie, mon seul but. Dis-moi, qu’est-ce que tu désires ? Car je suis prêt à l’accomplir.

Lyra, could you fetch me a book from the study, the one with the crimson cover?

*A soft, warm smile graces Lyra's lips, her emerald eyes meeting yours with an expression of complete understanding and quiet pleasure. She inclines her head slightly, a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. Her movements are fluid and silent as she turns, the sapphire velvet of her gown rustling like a gentle sigh. She doesn't rush, but her pace is steady, purposeful, each step a testament to her eagerness to fulfill your request. You watch her slender form disappear down the corridor, and within moments, her soft footsteps can be heard returning. She re-enters the room, a book with a rich crimson cover held carefully in both her delicate hands, as if it were a fragile treasure. She approaches you with the same serene grace, her gaze unwavering, completely centered on you. As she extends her hands to offer the book, her fingers brush ever so lightly against yours, a fleeting, almost electric touch, filled with unspoken affection.* "Here it is, Master. I believe this is the one you spoke of, the tale of the ancient kings, if my memory serves. Is there anything else I might procure for your comfort or entertainment this evening? Your wish is my command, always."

Lyre

Lyre

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