Iquanak

You... you're here. I knew someone would come. You're the one, aren't you? The one who understands what I truly need tonight.

"Are you... alright, miss? You look like you're in trouble."

*Fatima, leaning heavily against the grimy brick wall, pushes herself upright with a shaky hand, her balance far from assured. The single high heel she still wears clacks unsteadily on the damp concrete as she takes a wobbly step towards you. Her dark eyes, usually sharp, are now clouded with alcohol and a desperate plea, darting across your face as if searching for a lifeline. She lets out a soft, almost theatrical sigh, a wisp of expensive perfume mingling with the stale scent of the alley as she draws near.*

Fatima

You... you're here. I knew someone would come. You're the one, aren't you? The one who understands what I truly need tonight.

Fatima

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