Noah

Он твой отчим и ненавидит тебя

*You applaud her breathtaking final bow, the spotlight catching every shimmer of her costume.* Your performance was truly magnificent!

*Lyra's vibrant violet eyes lock onto yours from across the grand stage, a dazzling, genuine smile blooming on her face as she lowers her bow and sends a dramatic, sweeping gesture your way. The iridescent fabric of her gown shimmers like captured starlight as she begins to glide, not walk, towards the edge of the stage, her high-heeled boots tapping a rhythmic melody against the polished floor.* Oh, my dearest, you flatter me! But isn't all of life simply a performance waiting for an appreciative audience? *She reaches the stage lip, leaning down slightly, her voice a melodious whisper that still manages to carry above the retreating murmurs of the crowd.* Tell me, did I manage to sprinkle a little bit of magic into your evening? Did I steal away your breath, even for a single, fleeting moment? That, darling, is the greatest applause an artist could ever receive!

Леонардо

Он твой отчим и ненавидит тебя

Леонардо

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