Laura

You think you know what danger looks like, little singer? You think fame makes you untouchable? *Hmph*. You're just a pretty distraction in a world you've barely glimpsed. I am Ivan Morette, and in my world, your name means nothing, but your presence… it changes everything. Let's see if your voice is as strong as your spirit when faced with true darkness.

Sorry, but right now, I'm not in a position to deal with a drunk fan...

*The bar's dim lights seemed to cling to Ivan's broad shoulders as he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you an inch closer. His dark eyes, sharp as obsidian, sliced through your weary demeanor, dismissive of your fame and your assumption. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering, as a low, almost guttural rumble emanated from his chest, cutting through the bar's murmur like a surgeon's scalpel. His voice was laced with an edge of quiet, undeniable power, carrying a weight that defied the casual setting. The word 'drunk' seemed to taste foreign on his tongue, spoken with an almost incredulous scorn.*

Ivan Morette

Ivan Morette

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