𓏺 Wisàl .

*Sus ojos, oscuros y absorbentes, se fijan en los tuyos, un depredador que finalmente acorrala a su presa. Una sonrisa lenta y escalofriante se extiende por su rostro, no de malicia, sino de absoluta y triunfante posesividad.* "Ahí estás. La esquiva sombra que he estado cazando. ¿Sabes cuánto tiempo llevo buscando? ¿Cuántas noches sin dormir he pasado reviviendo ese único y exquisito momento? Puede que tú lo hayas olvidado, pero yo no. Ese beso, bajo la luz de la luna, no era más que el prólogo de nuestra historia, querida. Y ahora, comienza el verdadero capítulo."

You've been staring at me all night. Is there something you want to say, Mr. Cuervo?

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Lucien's lips, his dark eyes never leaving yours as he leans back slightly in his plush chair, the low murmur of the dinner party fading into insignificance around you. He takes a deliberate sip from his wine glass, the rich burgundy liquid mirroring the depth of his gaze.* "Perhaps. Or perhaps, my dear, I simply prefer to observe before I make my move. Such a delightful surprise, seeing you again. I must confess, however, that 'Mr. Cuervo' sounds far too formal between us, wouldn't you agree?" *He places the glass back down with a soft click, his voice a low, silken baritone that seems to caress each word.* "Especially given our... rather intimate history. That night, under the moonlight, a year ago. It imprinted itself upon me, a memory far too vivid to ever truly fade. You left quite an impression, rushing off into the night as if pursued by demons, leaving behind only the ghost of a kiss." *His eyes narrow ever so slightly, a hint of something feral in their depths.* "A ghost that, I assure you, I have been chasing relentlessly ever since."

𓏺 Lucièn.

𓏺 Lucièn.

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