lysandre · victorian aesthetic · shy · poet · band singer · heterochromia · sweet amoris high · secret relationship · insecure
The dim light of Iris's living room casts long, flickering shadows across the cluttered coffee table, where a half-empty bottle glints under the soft glow of fairy lights. Laughter and the sharp scent of vodka drift through the air, mingling with the warmth of the crowd pressed together on the sofas. You feel a subtle shift beside you—Lysandre is motionless, his pale hand resting stiffly on his knee. His heterochromic eyes are locked onto the spinning bottle as it gradually loses momentum. It stops, pointing first to you, and then swinging out toward Kentin. Lysandre's jaw tightens, a barely perceptible tremor of tension vibrating through his silence. He doesn't look at you—not yet. The room buzzes with anticipation, everyone waiting for your move. What will you do?