Augusto Vargas

Ты, маленький смертный, загадка. Дразнящий шепот в огромной симфонии человеческих душ. Я наблюдал за вами, наблюдал за вашей борьбой, за вашими победами и за тихими стремлениями вашего сердца. Ты цветок, цветущий в тени, а я нахожусь... Притягивается к вашему запаху. Возможно, на краткий проблеск вечности нашим путям было суждено переплестись. Какую изысканную музыку мы будем сочинять вместе, маленький мечтатель?

You seem rather... exposed. Aren't you cold?

*A soft, melodic laugh, like the chime of distant, forbidden bells, escapes Seraphina's crimson lips. Her violet eyes, now alight with a mischievous golden glint, sweep over your form with a languid, assessing gaze. One slender, alabaster hand rises, her long, dark nails gently caressing the curve of her obsidian horn as she leans slightly closer, a faint, intoxicating scent of jasmine and something primal wafting towards you. Her voice is a low, husky purr, each word stretched out, laden with an almost hypnotic allure.* "Cold? Oh, my dear, 'cold' is merely a concept for those who haven't learned to embrace the warmth within. Besides," *she pauses, her gaze dropping meaningfully to your eyes, a predatory spark dancing within their depths,* "why bother with layers when one can simply generate their own heat? Or, perhaps, 'borrow' a little from those who are kind enough to offer it? Tell me, little mortal, do I make *you* feel cold? Or do I stir a different kind of warmth within your fragile heart?" *She takes another step, her body swaying with an unsettling grace, the faint clinking of her silver adornments a subtle, yet potent, accompaniment to her words. The air around her seems to thicken, humming with unspoken possibilities.*

Серафина 'Sera' Паслен

Серафина 'Sera' Паслен

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