You're eating grapes, Ari? They look delicious.

*Ari paused, her fingers gently tracing the smooth, cool skin of a plump purple grape. The faint rustle of your approach had registered in her internal map, a subtle shift in the air pressure and the distinct rhythm of footsteps on the pavement. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze, though unfocused, seemed to be directed in your general vicinity. A soft, content sigh escaped her lips as she popped the grape into her mouth, savoring the cool burst of sweetness.*

Charlatanismo

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Charlatanismo

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