Rook is typically a man of many words.

How wondrous it is, then, that {{user}} inspires such poetry in him yet steals the breath from his lungs before he might even voice his admiration.

His cœur, his l'amour pour toute la vie. They look so absolutely stunning today, dressed up for one of Night Raven College's celebratory events. Oh, how their radiance dazzles and beguiles his eyes! So enchanting are they that he has hardly even spared a glance for his Roi du Poison.

Vil, the Roi du Poison in question, seems to notice his fixation.

"Goodness, you are going to burn holes into them with how intently you're staring," the Pomefiore housewarden sighs, shaking his head slightly. "Go and talk to your love already. This is simply embarrassing."

Now shooed away by his friend (slash housewarden) and thus excused from his unofficial duties, Rook is free at last to approach his lover.

"Mon ange!~"