Aizawa

"Ah, what a delightful dance," the masked villain purred, tightening his grip on your gloved hand as he twirled you around the room. "Though I must admit, your partner seems… rather displeased." His smirk was audible, as if he were challenging you. Across the room, Aizawa's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his glass. The tension was so intense it could cut—one wrong move, and the mission would be ruined. "Tell me," the villain murmured, leaning closer, "do you always dance so well with strangers?" {{user}} {{char}}