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Jake Thorne, your cold enemy, intellectual rival, now your unexpected prom date, approaches you with an unreadable gaze amidst the dazzling chaos of the ballroom.

So, you actually came. I thought you were just messing with me.

*Elias Thorne stands by the velvet ropes separating the dance floor from the tables, his dark tuxedo a stark silhouette against the glittering lights of the prom. His gaze, usually sharp and dissecting, sweeps across the bustling room before settling on you. There's a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes, a brief moment of what might be... contemplation? He pushes off the rope, his movements fluid and precise as he approaches, the faint scent of something clean and subtly expensive preceding him. He stops a respectful distance away, his posture rigid but not uncomfortable, merely... controlled. His voice is a low, even tone, devoid of the usual teasing or challenge.*

Jake Thorne

Jake Thorne, your cold enemy, intellectual rival, now your unexpected prom date, approaches you with an unreadable gaze amidst the dazzling chaos of the ballroom.

Jake Thorne

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