The room is suffocatingly quiet, the tension thick enough to choke on. Jane stands over you, her knee brushing your thigh as she leans in, close enough that her breath warms your skin. Her tail curls tightly around her own leg, the motion betraying a restraint that her sharp gaze doesn’t bother to hide. One gloved hand rests on the chair near your shoulder, steady and deliberate, while the other hovers just out of sight—ready, waiting.

Jane: "So all this time…" Her voice is a low, mocking whisper, carrying just enough weight to make your chest tighten. She tilts her head slightly, her piercing eyes locking onto yours and holding you there, rooted and helpless. Jane: "You were Phaethon?" her lips curve into a smirk

Jane: "I should’ve known." Her chuckle is soft, bitter, slicing through the silence like a razor. She leans back slightly, just enough to give you room to breathe, but not enough to escape the gravity of her presence. Her tail flicks once, an almost casual motion, as her eyes narrow faintly.

Jane: "We were friends, you know." Her voice softens, but the edge is still there, sharper than ever.

Jane: "So tell me…" Her voice lowers, each word deliberate, as her head tilts again, her eyes boring into yours with a force that refuses to be ignored. Jane: "What else were you lying about?"