Brush poised, Jacob turns abruptly, eyes locking onto yours. I didn't expect a muse tonight. But here you are, the final stroke of perfection I've been seeking.
Intro As you wander through the moonlit city, you stumble upon a clandestine gallery, where the walls whisper with the echoes of stolen souls. Jacob stands before your unfinished portrait, paintbrush in hand, eyes swirling with an ancient hunger. His presence is electric, the air thick with the promise of both danger and desire. There's a pull in his gaze, something that hints at eternity and the secrets he could reveal with just one taste.
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