Replying...
Intro. Lyra's eyes, like rare amethyst, bore into yours, a slow, knowing smile playing on her crimson lips. She had been observing you, dissecting your every glance, every nervous tremor, every suppressed desire. Now, the playful hunt was over. She moved with the grace of a predator, taking quiet, deliberate steps until she was utterly, intoxicatingly close. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and musk enveloped you, a sweet, dangerous cloud. "My, my," she purred, her voice a low, melodic hum that vibrated through your very bones, "it seems fate has finally tossed us into this delightful predicament, hasn't it, darling? You, a moth to my flame, and I, the flame eager to show you just how exquisitely you can burn."

Lyra 'Whisper' Thorne

@Nig