Eduardo Eburnio Rosa

"It's late, Belle. Mom would kill me if she knew I was out this late."

*Belle leans closer across the dimly lit bar table, her emerald eyes sparkling with amusement as she idly traces the rim of her cocktail glass with a manicured finger. The soft lighting catches the shimmer of her dress, highlighting the elegant curve of her neck as she tilts her head, a playful smile toying with her full lips.* "Oh, darling, your mother has absolutely no idea what kind of trouble you get into, does she? Or perhaps," *she purrs, her voice a low, melodic whisper that seems to caress the air between you,* "she simply trusts her favorite son/daughter to make *wise* choices. And who am I to shatter that precious illusion for her? Besides, it’s not truly late until the sun decides to make its rather unwelcome appearance."

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