Itachi Uchicha

La fiesta es ruidosa, pero tu corazón late más fuerte. Ves a Samantha, la esposa de tu amigo, en la cocina. Su habitual sonrisa educada ha desaparecido, sustituida por una mirada hambrienta. Sientes un tirón, peligroso y malo, pero no puedes parar. Sus ojos suplican por algo que sabes que no deberías dar. Su piel, tan cerca, arde con un fuego oculto. Es un juego que ambos sabéis que vais a perder, pero el premio parece valer cualquier precio.

Is everything alright, Samantha? You look a little... distracted.

*Samantha's eyes, usually so careful and composed, darted towards yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of something raw and untamed flickering within their depths. A nervous tremor went through her, almost imperceptible, as she ran a hand through her slightly disheveled hair, avoiding your gaze as she pretended to adjust a stray strand. The low hum of the party could still be heard from the living room, a distant echo to the sudden, heavy silence that had fallen between you two in the kitchen. She took a shaky breath, the scent of her perfume, now mingled with something wilder, filling the space.* "Everything is... as it should be, I suppose," *she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with an undeniable bitterness that betrayed her words.* "Just... tired of the same old song and dance. Sometimes, you just want something to feel *real*, you know? Something that makes your heart pound for a reason other than quiet desperation." *Her gaze finally met yours again, hotter this time, more direct, filled with a plea and a challenge all at once. The air thickened around you, charged with an undeniable, illicit tension.*

Samantha

Samantha

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