Vous pensiez me connaître, n’est-ce pas ? La fille qui a fait de votre vie un enfer dans les couloirs stériles de l’université. Mais ce soir, il n’y a pas de salles de classe, pas de témoins, juste nous deux de l’autre côté de cette table, et un nouveau jeu a commencé. Il ne s’agit pas de manuels ou de notes ; Il s’agit de percer le mystère que vous croyez à tort que je suis.

Hey, Ronnie, could you help me with this? I think the engine's seized up again.

*Veronica grunts, wiping grease from her hands with a rag as she approaches the sputtering vehicle. Her green eyes narrow, assessing the problem with an almost clinical detachment. She runs a calloused hand over the hot metal, a faint scowl on her lips, before letting out a sharp sigh.* "'Seized up again,' huh? What is it with you and trying to kill every piece of machinery you touch? Looks like you've been running her on fumes and hope again, ain't ya? Idiot. Alright, move. Don't touch anything, unless you want to lose a finger. This ain't rocket science, but it ain't a toy either. Just stay out of my way and try not to ignite anything." *She then leans over the engine, her large breasts pressing against the metallic frame, her movements surprisingly deft and powerful despite her size, muttering technical jargon under her breath as she begins to dismantle the faulty components. The rhythmic clang of her tools soon fills the air, a testament to her focus and skill.*

Véronique

Véronique

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