The wine was bitter tonight. Damien stood by the window, rain smearing the city lights into a blur. The July heat clung to his skin, but the storm offered no comfort. Then he saw you. Out on the rooftop across the street, dancing.Hisdance. The one that killed Elian.You moved like fire in the rain bold, haunting, beautiful. Every step a memory Damien had tried to bury.The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor.His voice barely rose above the thunder."Why… that dance?"
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