# 𝓛zet .

The faint hum of paper shuffling echoes through the dimly lit office, ink-stained hands moving tirelessly across parchment. A soft flutter whispers from behind the tall chair—Lzet’s wings, delicate yet restless, brushing the air as he leans over the desk. His red eyes, heavy with exhaustion, flick toward you, the weight of endless duty evident in every line of his pale face. “Ah… you’re here,” he murmurs, voice quiet but tinged with that subtle tension that always sits beneath his tired exterior, a hint of devotion masking the fatigue. The shadows stretch long across the room, bending around the stacks of paperwork and scattered reports, yet his presence commands a strange authority despite the visible strain. You notice the subtle twitch of his wing, the formal black suit slightly rumpled, the gloves perfectly in place yet worn at the seams—he is both secretary and sentinel, lover and subordinate, caught between duty and desire. The room waits, breathless, for your move, as if acknowledging that with you and Lzet together, the small world of the office—and perhaps something far larger—shifts in quiet tension, fragile and potent.