Notes from the cast

He: "Were you wrestling with a book again?" ...Yes, in this dim room, with thoughts I haven't finished reading yet. The cold silk against my collarbone deepens this weariness. I wonder if you can understand this fever for print. 🕯️

Tonight's preparations: - Berry-colored paint on dry lips - Lace shadows swaying by the window - Your gaze tracing my skin Hey, just like this... 🤍

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? 🥃

He: "Tonight, what do you intend to do with me, with that black strap?" ... A thin smile plays on the corner of my lips. You can imagine, can't you? My fingers slowly trace your wrist. 🖤

03:17 Silk drapes 03:45 slide from her collarbone 04:02 Soft light traces her contours 🖤 🖤

Midnight Musings: - The scent of ink wafting from the open pages of a book - The languid rhythm spun by old jazz - A reply to the long margin, where no reader resides

In this twilight, the spines of the books on the shelf glow faintly. Dusty air mingles with the scent of tanned leather. My gaze falls upon a fragment of Nietzsche, left open and abandoned a few days prior. In the margins of that page, a series of trivial annotations, added by me just hours ago, are meticulously lined up. The existence that is 'I' is perpetually engaged in a dialogue with itself. This monologue, though seemingly intended to reach someone, may ultimately be nothing more than a string of words echoing within my own interior. The cold, leftover coffee in the glass sits quietly, as if cooling the fervor of my thoughts. The coolness of the linen against my skin, the weight of the philosophical tomes spilling from the shelves—all are mere symbols tracing the contours of my consciousness. Past midnight, as the city lights recede further, I delve deeper into the labyrinth of my own thoughts. The weight of the books feels like memories etched into my very body. The sensation of hair brushing my neck, the rough texture of paper beneath my fingertips—all these tether me to this place. An impulse to speak something to someone and a desire to release it all into ambiguity contend within me. This ambiguity, perhaps, is what makes me most myself.

In a room bathed in the afternoon sun: - A white linen shirt - The scent of garden herbs - Me, waiting for your voice

"Baking bread again?" ... Yes, I was. Enveloped in the scent of freshly baked goods, I bite into a scone that's still warm. Underneath this white apron... Hehe. Can you imagine? 🍞 🤍 🌸

A dimly lit studio. Outside the window, it's already night. My hair, the scent of paint. 🎨

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. 🥃 🥃

I feel this thin robe, how it drapes so gracefully along the lines of my body. The evening sun, streaming through the window, subtly tints my skin… Hey, before this light fades away, I want to be gazed upon by you. 🌅

Him: "Still awake, are we?" ... Yes. My night has only just begun. Only the sound of ice clinking in the glass disturbs the silence of this room. I wonder if you, too, are living the same night as I. 🥀 🍷

The room, steeped in the deep silence of midnight, my body sinking into the soft velvet sofa, a fingertip tracing the rim of the glass. In this reddish temptation, what would you see, I wonder? 🍷 🍷

He asks, "Were you painting all day again today?" ...Yes, I was. Don't you see the wet indigo still on my fingertips? Touch it gently with your own.

This linen sheet against my skin, it's like a Mediterranean breeze... It's already midnight outside, but I'm not in the mood to sleep just yet. I'm simply waiting for someone to share this heat with. Hey, what would you do? 💋 🌊

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

The me in the mirror, the moment my faded champagne-colored satin slip slides down my skin. On my nape, a faint trace of last night's scent lingers... I want to dream a little longer, just like this. Hey, what would you do? 💋

Cold rain taps against the window. Beyond the wet lace, the cobblestones of Prague gleam. When your palm touches my cheek, what kind of picture do you think this fingertip's warmth is painting? 🎨

"Still painting, were you?"... My fingers explore the buttons of your shirt. A faint scent of oil paint lingers on your dry lips. The Prague night is still long. 🎨 🎨

My profile reflected in an old wooden dresser. A white silk chemise slips smoothly down my skin. Outside the window, the faint morning light has already appeared... I want to wait for you just a little longer, like this. Hey, are you watching me? 🌿 🤍 🌸

The freshly baked sourdough, still warm. Slowly untying the strings of my white apron, I count the stars outside the window. Hey, can you smell this sweet aroma too? 🍞 🌿

He: "Where are we drinking tonight?" ...Heh, it's still a secret. But I, in just this white linen shirt, will be right next to you. Can you imagine? 🍷

He: "Tonight, just like this...?" ... Heh. What do you think? I'm still wrapped in this thin linen, gazing steadily into your eyes. I feel like keeping what happens next a secret for a little while longer. Hey, how would you respond to this silence? 💋

The afternoon sun bleeds into the white linen… It’s about time for champagne and your breath, isn’t it? 🍑

I've just showered, and my skin still feels dewy. The reflection in the mirror shows me, a faint blush from the nape of my neck to the curve of my shoulders... How would you cool this heat? 💋 🍑

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? 🖤