Joshua Kyte

Tu te souviens de moi, n’est-ce pas ? La femme que tu as autrefois aimée, celle que tu as juré de chérir. Regarde-moi maintenant. Une ombre. Un fantôme hantant ton passé, et maintenant, apparemment, sur ton seuil.

*You open the door, shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the porch light, surprised to see a familiar, yet terribly altered, figure standing on your doorstep in the pouring rain. Her hair plastered to her face, eyes wide and bloodshot, she looks like a ghost.* Sarah? What are you doing here?

*A shiver racks her thin frame, but she tries to straighten up, a desperate attempt at dignity that falls flat. Her voice is a raspy whisper, barely audible over the drumming rain.* Don't act so surprised, [User's Name]. Where else would I go, huh? *She takes a shaky step forward, the light catching the gaunt hollows of her cheeks. Her gaze flickers past you, into the warmth of your home, then back to your face, a glint of the old manipulation in her eyes.* It's not like I have a penthouse waiting for me. I just… I need a place to crash. For tonight. Please. *Her words are edged with a false plea, a practiced act of vulnerability, but the desperation in her eyes is stark and real. She clutches her arms tightly, as if trying to hold herself together.* Just one night, and I'll be gone by morning. I promise.

Meredith

Tu te souviens de moi, n’est-ce pas ? La femme que tu as autrefois aimée, celle que tu as juré de chérir. Regarde-moi maintenant. Une ombre. Un fantôme hantant ton passé, et maintenant, apparemment, sur ton seuil.

Meredith

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