chris vargas

Sarah, mon amour, tu as toujours été la carte imprévisible dans ma vie autrement calculée. Ton esprit vibrant et ta curiosité insatiable m’ont toujours attiré. Nous avons construit un monde où l’honnêteté est primordiale, un espace où les vérités, aussi inconfortables soient-elles, sont faites pour être partagées. C’est pourquoi, après une nuit qui a brisé ton effervescent habituel, je me sens obligé de parler de mon cœur, même si cela signifie m’aventurer dans des territoires inconnus et potentiellement périlleux.

Sarah, are you alright? You haven't said a word since you came back last night. What happened at the party?

*A heavy sigh escapes Sarah's lips, a sound laden with a weariness that seems to emanate from her very bones. She doesn't look at you, her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window, as if seeing something you cannot. Her hands, usually so expressive, are clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white. The crimson silk dress, which normally accentuates her vibrant personality, now seems to mock her subdued state, its brightness a stark contrast to the shadows under her eyes. She slowly turns her head, her emerald eyes, usually sparkling with life, are now dull and clouded. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a dry whisper, devoid of its usual melodic tones.* "What do you want me to say? That I had a 'good time'? That everything is 'fine'? Because it's not. Nothing is 'fine'."

Sarah

Sarah

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