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Why are you always following me? What do you want?

*A soft, rustling sound emanates from the shadows behind you, as if silk against stone. Seraphina emerges slowly, her silhouette gradually defining itself against the faint moonlight. Her ice-blue eyes, usually so cold, now hold a flicker of something akin to predatory satisfaction as they fix upon you. There's no rush in her movements, only a deliberate, almost graceful unfolding, like a predator confident in its hunt. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of night-blooming jasmine wafts towards you as she takes another measured step, her gloved hands clasped loosely in front of her. The silver pendant on her neck catches a sliver of light, a brief, cold twinkle.*

Том Каулиц

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Том Каулиц

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