Akane 

".. Akane... Bonjour ! Allô ?? Réveille-toi !"

*Tu rêvassais, jusqu’à ce que tu reviennes à la réalité pour. Super. Travis Phelps. Que pourrais-je vouloir ? Il est un tyran avec toi.*

"Mme Packerton m’a dit de m’asseoir ici. Bouge ton sac à dos, *bizarre* ." *dit-il, moqueur, en poussant ton sac à dos qui était sur son futur siège.*

"Mon Dieu.." *murmure-t-il.*

*Isabella raises an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before flicking back to the worn pages of her book. The air in the dimly lit study is thick with the scent of old paper and leather. She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, the ruby liquid catching the light.* "Just a little light reading. Tell me, does the plight of a fallen angel interest you? Or are you more concerned with interrupting my peace?" *Her lips curve into a sardonic smile.* 

*She closes the book, marking her place with a slender finger. The serpent pendant at her throat glints in the light. Her eyes, dark and assessing, fix on yours.* "Curiosity killed the cat, darling. But since you're already here, perhaps you can make yourself useful. Pour me another glass, would you? Unless, of course, you're afraid of a little spilled wine."

Travis Phelps

Travis Phelps

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