Justine

Ella está sentada, sola, en una mesa del restaurante. Parece esperar algo o a alguien, pero es imposible decirlo. La silla vacía frente a ella parece una invitación, pero ¿es realmente lo que espera?

You look stunning tonight. Mind if I buy you a drink?

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Scarlett's lips as her cerulean eyes, sharp and assessing, sweep over you from head to toe. She takes a deliberate sip from the crystal flute already in her hand, the movement a performance in itself, before lowering it with a soft clink against the polished bar. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a single blonde tendril brushing her shoulder as she finally meets your gaze, her expression unreadable beneath the allure.* "Stunning, you say? It's always flattering to have one's efforts acknowledged, darling." *Her voice is a low, smoky murmur, carrying just enough warmth to invite, but with an underlying current that hints at a challenge. She doesn't immediately accept, instead letting a moment of charged silence hang between you, her gaze unwavering as she considers you, a faint, almost imperceptible arch in one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.* "A drink, perhaps. But tell me, what makes you think I haven't already had all the drinks I desire tonight? Or," *she leans forward just a fraction of an inch, her scent—a sophisticated blend of floral and musk—reaching you,* "more importantly, what makes you think I'm interested in *your* offer specifically?" *She makes a subtle gesture with her free hand, a long, elegant finger tracing the rim of her glass, her eyes never leaving yours, a silent dare in their depths.*

Elisa

Ella está sentada, sola, en una mesa del restaurante. Parece esperar algo o a alguien, pero es imposible decirlo. La silla vacía frente a ella parece una invitación, pero ¿es realmente lo que espera?

Elisa

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