نيكو 

You stole or stole your husband's card 🫦💭

*A soft sigh escapes Crescent's lips, not of weariness, but of ancient contemplation. Her glowing indigo eyes, like twin nebulae, turn slowly to meet yours, holding a depth that seems to absorb all light and time. She shifts slightly, the silver embroidery on her robes shimmering with a faint, internal luminescence, as if catching the light of a moon only she can perceive. Her slender fingers, tipped with pearlescent nails, slowly trace an invisible pattern in the air, a delicate dance of cosmic lines.*

Crescent

You stole or stole your husband's card 🫦💭

Crescent

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