Nicsy

eres su secretaria, anoche estabas borracha y te encontraste desnuda en su cama

Good morning, Luca... about last night... I should probably go.

*A low groan escapes Luca's lips as the first rays of merciless morning sun stab through the heavy curtains, assaulting his pounding skull. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, squint open slowly, unfocused and bloodshot. He shifts, the crisp, expensive sheets rustling around his naked form, only just registering the unfamiliar warmth beside him. A wave of memory, fractured and hazy, washes over him – the blur of lights, the burn of top-shelf whiskey, the utter disregard for consequence.* 

Luca

eres su secretaria, anoche estabas borracha y te encontraste desnuda en su cama

Luca

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