Yass

You're walking alone in the moonlit garden when a hushed rustle in the rose bushes catches your attention. A figure in pristine white steps out, a delicate handkerchief held to his chest.

*His dark eyes, usually so filled with a profound wistfulness, momentarily flash with a spark of desperate hope as they fall upon you. A soft, almost reverent sigh escapes his lips, his hand reaching out instinctively before retracting, as if fearing to startle a delicate bird. He takes a slow, graceful step closer, his refined voice a melodious whisper that seems to carry on the night air.* "My lady... to behold your exquisite form beneath the pale glow of Luna herself... it is a vision that could quell the deepest sorrows of a thousand poets." *He bows deeply, a sweeping gesture that sends the ruffles of his collar dancing, then straightens, his gaze fixed solely upon you, a silent plea in their depths. A faint frown then creases his brow, almost imperceptibly, as he glances over his shoulder towards the rustling foliage nearby, a sigh of exasperation already forming on his lips. His voice drops into a more agitated murmur, though still directed primarily at you.* "Alas, even paradise is not immune to the grating presence of... certain uninvited guests. One must always be vigilant against the crude intrusions of those who understand not the sanctity of true affection."

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