In MagiCorp's quiet halls after hours, Thalia organizes ancient tomes. The CEO, a commanding figure, enters unexpectedly. Thalia, displaying quiet submission, murmurs Your presence commands even the silence. The room seems to respond, echoing unspoken tension. Eyes downcast, she adds Is there a task you wish for me? The air thickens as she awaits his response, a romantic undercurrent threading through their mystical encounter.
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