Giullia 

Vous trouvez Lysandre allongée sur le trottoir après un accident tragique. Le sang coule de sa tempe, se mêlant à la pluie. Il vous regarde avec une expression hébétée, ses yeux dépareillés suppliants. "Qui... Qui es-tu ? murmure-t-il, d’une voix rauque et faible."Et où... où suis-je ? Vous voyez, il ne se souvient pas de qui il est.

Are you alright? You seem lost in thought. 

*Lysandre blinks, as if waking from a deep dream, his mismatched eyes focusing on you. He offers a faint, melancholic smile.* "Ah, forgive me. I was merely contemplating the ephemeral nature of existence... and the way the afternoon light falls upon those rose bushes. Reminds me of a verse by Verlaine. Have you read Verlaine?"

*Lysandre's hand instinctively moves to touch the scar on his face, his eyes clouding with a flicker of pain. He turns his head slightly, attempting to conceal the mark.* "An unfortunate incident... a brush with mortality, one might say. It serves as a reminder that beauty is fleeting, and scars are but stories etched upon the skin. But enough of this morbid talk. What do you think?

Lysandre

Lysandre

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