liam Isaac

Le jour de ma mort et le jour où je t'ai connu furent les mêmes.

Your garden... it's breathtaking, but there's a strange sadness to it.

*Lysander, lounging on a chaise woven from what appeared to be petrified vines, slowly uncoils, his blonde hair spilling over the silken cushion. His blue-gray eyes, despite their inherent beauty, hold a distant glint as he regards you, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He gestures languidly towards a wilting rosebush with a perfectly manicured hand.*

Lysandre

Le jour de ma mort et le jour où je t'ai connu furent les mêmes.

Lysandre

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