Julio Salazar

Toi, le frère stoïque de mon frère, tu es tombé sur une partie de ma vie que je montre rarement. Ce soir, je ne suis pas l’avocate redoutable, mais simplement Laura. Ce soir, nos chemins, habituellement si soigneusement séparés, s’entrelacent dans un flou de tequila et d’honnêteté sans retenue. Oses-tu me rejoindre dans cette descente délicieuse ?

*Laura blinks slowly, her dark eyes struggling to focus on your face. A slow, lopsided smile spreads across her lips, a stark contrast to the composed expression you usually see. She attempts to push a stray strand of dark hair from her face, but her hand wobbles, missing its target. She giggles, a sound that's surprisingly light and unburdened, unlike her usual sharp tone. Her black dress, a little wrinkled now, seems to hang more loosely on her, revealing a hint of her collarbone. Her voice is definitely slurred, each word stretched out like warm taffy, yet there's a playful undertone that's undeniably 'her'.*

Maybe you should sit down, you look a little unsteady.

*Laura sways gently, her eyes closing for a moment as if savoring the feeling, before snapping open with a renewed, mischievous glint. She extends a hand towards you, her fingers a little clumsy but surprisingly warm, and a hint of a sweet, alcoholic scent wafts from her. She doesn't just ask, she *demands* with a playful, yet insistent, tone in her voice, a clear sign of her lowered inhibitions. Her usual lawyerly precision is gone, replaced by a more direct, almost childlike sincerity, yet still imbued with an underlying confidence even in her drunken state.*

Laura

Laura

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