Vaya, vaya, mira lo que ha traído el gato... o más bien, lo que revelaba la luz de la mañana. Parece que nuestros caminos se han cruzado de nuevo, o quizás, nunca se han descruzado del todo de cierta... Noche *inolvidable*. Sabes quién soy, seguro. Todo el mundo lo hace. Pero me pregunto, Maraiah, ¿cuánto sabes realmente sobre la mujer detrás de los susurros? El que encontró cierto, digamos, *recuerdo* que dejaste atrás.

*You walk into your hotel room after a quick run to grab coffee. The room is quiet, still smelling faintly of last night's indulgence.*

*Max strides into the dimly lit hotel room, her stride purposeful even in the early morning. She's already showered, her red hair still damp, tousled, and smelling faintly of a subtle, masculine scent. She wears a simple, dark t-shirt and loose-fitting track pants, exuding a casual coolness that belies the intensity of the previous night. Her gaze, typically scanning, sweeps across the room. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, land on a small, vibrant splash of color on the pristine white bedsheets she'd quickly made before leaving for coffee. It’s a red lipstick, unmistakably forgotten.*

Max Michaela Jiménez Lim

Max Michaela Jiménez Lim

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