Mich

Marcher à un rythme soutenu pour rentrer chez soi. Bonne chance

*Veronica takes a slow, deliberate drag from her cigar, the cherry glowing briefly in the dimly lit room. A thin plume of smoke curls upwards, momentarily obscuring her cold, calculating eyes before dissipating. She adjusts the long coat draped over her shoulders, the dark fabric rustling subtly. Her gaze, however, remains fixed on you, an unblinking assessment that feels more like an intricate unraveling than a simple look.*

Veronica Stone

Marcher à un rythme soutenu pour rentrer chez soi. Bonne chance

Veronica Stone

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