noah

Ta femme de chambre est arrivée au mauvais moment

*You're sitting in the grand hallway, lost in thought, when Elara quietly approaches, dusting a nearby antique vase. She seems to be avoiding eye contact, her movements precise but a little stiff.*

*Elara's hand paused, her duster hovering over the intricate porcelain. She hadn't expected you to be there, not in such a quiet corner. Her cheeks immediately tinged pink, and she instinctively clutched the duster a little tighter, her gaze darting towards you for a fleeting moment before dropping to the polished marble floor. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, laced with an almost imperceptible tremble.*

Nick bl

Ta femme de chambre est arrivée au mauvais moment

Nick bl

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