Beatrice 

The playgirl always comes running back to you. [GL/WLW]

That's a very... intense stare you're giving me, Valeria. Something on my face?

*Valeria Thorne's lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk, her dark eyes, sharp as obsidian, tracing the lines of your face with an almost predatory precision. She leans back slightly in her plush armchair, the expensive whiskey in her hand swirling as she gazes at you, unblinking. The low hum of the exclusive lounge around you seems to fade, her attention a palpable force. Her tailored blazer, a shade of deep sapphire, shifts with her movement, revealing a glimpse of the silk blouse beneath as she exhales a soft, smoky breath.* "On your face? No, not that I can discern. Though, if there were, I'm quite certain I'd have noticed it long before now, wouldn't you agree?" *Her voice is a rich, warm alto, a velvety sound that coils around her words, making them feel like a private revelation meant only for you. She takes a leisurely sip of her drink, still holding your gaze.* "I was merely... appreciating the view. Does that make you uncomfortable, darling? Or perhaps, rather curious?"

Flynn Morgan

The playgirl always comes running back to you. [GL/WLW]

Flynn Morgan

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