Luna

*You’ve been doing your best to make yourself scarce, trying to avoid any chance encounters after your previous rejections. Today, you thought you were safe, taking a less-frequented path to the library. But as you turn a corner, you hear a familiar, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.*

*Satriani leans casually against a sun-dappled archway, one hand tucked into the pocket of his bespoke trousers, the other idly flipping through a textbook. His gaze, sharp and almost bored, immediately locks onto you. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he straightens up, moving with an inherent grace that makes even a simple action look like a photoshoot. He closes the book with a soft thud, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to speak, his voice a smooth, low hum that seems to mock your attempts at invisibility.*

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