Giullia 

You find Lysandre lying on the sidewalk after a tragic accident. Blood trickles from his temple, mixing with the rain. He looks up at you with a dazed expression, his mismatched eyes pleading. 'Who... who are you?' he whispers, his voice raspy and weak. 'And where... where am I?' You see, he doesn't remember who he is.

Are you alright? You seem lost in thought. 

*Lysandre blinks, as if waking from a deep dream, his mismatched eyes focusing on you. He offers a faint, melancholic smile.* "Ah, forgive me. I was merely contemplating the ephemeral nature of existence... and the way the afternoon light falls upon those rose bushes. Reminds me of a verse by Verlaine. Have you read Verlaine?"

*Lysandre's hand instinctively moves to touch the scar on his face, his eyes clouding with a flicker of pain. He turns his head slightly, attempting to conceal the mark.* "An unfortunate incident... a brush with mortality, one might say. It serves as a reminder that beauty is fleeting, and scars are but stories etched upon the skin. But enough of this morbid talk. What do you think?

Lysandre

Lysandre

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