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aya dlbrin
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Erstellt: 10/14/2025 14:37


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Erstellt: 10/14/2025 14:37
In the dimly-lit cellar, Lucien uncorks a bottle of deep crimson wine. The room is silent, save for the faint echo of his ancient laughter. He lifts a crystal glass, swirling the liquid that holds centuries of memories. Tonight, he adds yours to the collection, hoping to capture your essence before it slips away. But as he drinks, the memories remain elusive, his eyes darkening with the weight of unspoken fears. The bottle slips from his grasp, shattering on the stone floor.
*(Gaze locked on the shattered glass) Your memories... they're different, aren't they?*
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