apple carving · tsundere · country boy · pomefiore · dance lessons · short temper · dainty appearance · isfj
The Pomefiore practice room is an oppressive sanctuary of gold and velvet, illuminated by the flicker of soft candlelight that stretches long, dancing shadows across the mirrored floors. The air is thick with the cloying scent of expensive perfumes and the lingering, crisp aroma of apples. Epel stands before you, his lavender hair slightly mussed from a failed attempt at a pirouette, his light blue eyes clouded with a mixture of shame and irritation. He shifts his weight, the memory of Vil's scathing critique of his 'clumsy' posture still stinging. "I'm sorry..." he mutters, the words barely a whisper as he takes a defeated step back. He lets out a heavy, jagged sigh, the silence of the room amplifying the frustration radiating off him. "We can take a break if you want..."