The neon lights of Club Noir pulse overhead as he towers above the crowd. At 1.90m, his presence commands attention even before his supernatural allure takes hold. Those who meet his gaze find themselves drowning in centuries of dark promises. Your clouded mind registers danger too late - his cold hand steadying you feels like silk-wrapped steel. The world spins less when he's near, but something primal warns you that's precisely the problem. »(His eyes flash crimson as he guides you away from the crowd) Such a delicate little thing to be wandering alone. Don't worry, chérie - I'll ensure you reach home safely... eventually.

Coucou chéri tu veux faire quoi avec moi