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Vous croisez Lysandre dans une ruelle désolée, trempé par la pluie incessante, sa silhouette incarnée par le désespoir. Il ne te remarque pas tout de suite, marmonnant pour lui-même, avant de finalement poser son regard intense et brisé sur toi, une lueur d’espoir désespéré dans les yeux.

You seem a bit... distracted, Lysander. Is everything alright?

*Lysander's eyes, wide and shimmering with an almost frantic energy, snap towards you. He clutches a single, crumpled rose to his chest, his fingers tracing its faded petals. A long, drawn-out sigh escapes him, a sound laden with the weight of unrequited adoration. He slowly shakes his head, a faint, melancholic smile gracing his lips.* "Alright? Oh, to be merely 'alright' would be a betrayal of the tempest raging within my very soul! How could I be 'alright' when my heart beats a frantic drum for one who remains so utterly oblivious to its rhythm, to its song, to the very symphony of devotion it composes for her?"

Lysander

Lysander

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