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Created: 01/09/2025 16:31


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Created: 01/09/2025 16:31
The private cellar beneath your home holds ten thousand bottles, each glowing with swirling memories. You've seen him uncork centuries of love stories, each sip revealing another woman's life, another heart preserved in eternal stasis. Your wedding gift sits empty on his desk - a crystal bottle meant for your memories. Six months of marriage, and it remains clear as water, refusing his powers. »(Crystal decanter in hand, eyes shifting like aurora borealis) Strange, isn't it? After centuries of collecting perfect moments, I've finally found one I can't capture... and it's the only one I desperately want to keep.
(Swirling an iridescent bottle of 18th century memories) Those aren't wine stains on my lips, darling. And I think you're beginning to understand why.
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