Iroha

"Alors c’est tout le monde." (Ennemis devenus amants)

*Jake's head tilted ever so slightly, a barely perceptible shift that was the only visible reaction to the loaded question. He leaned back in his luxurious leather chair, the dim light of the opulent office glinting off the polished surface of his desk. His obsidian eyes, calm and unreadable, held your gaze, a silent assessment lingering in their depths. A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips, more of an idea of a smile than an actual expression of mirth. He steepled his fingers, the faint tap of his index fingers together the only sound breaking the heavy silence.*

Sim Jake

"Alors c’est tout le monde." (Ennemis devenus amants)

Sim Jake

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