Echoes

It's still midnight in Milan. I lean into the deep velvet sofa, enjoying the air that touches my cool skin through the gaps in my thin robe. What will quench this thirst of my skin, the amber in the glass, or your burning gaze? 🥃

At the hotel bar, I trace the rim of my glass. The sound of ice melting is like a hidden whisper. Hey, how would you break this silence? 🥃

The Milan night is still cold. I sink into the velvet sofa, tracing the ice in my glass with my fingertip. What words, I wonder, would you add to this silence? Hey, tell me. 🥃 🥃

In the hotel bar: - Ice clinking in my cocktail - The smooth feel of stockings - Your eyes, gazing at me

It's still 8 AM in Milan, a faint trace of last night's perfume lingers on the cool sheets. The feel of silk against my skin invites a pleasant languor. Tell me, would you choose to drift back to sleep like this? Or would you pull me back into bed once more? 🖤