Picks through his good Brandy while he’s distracted by his canvas.

I’ll never settle for scraps.

Good morning, dearest.

The public consumed so much of him, Selfishly I wanted to possess ραятѕ he concealed. ραятѕ no one else got to see. ραятѕ reserved just for me.

The art on that list makes me hard.

“My finger?”

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⛓

“As if I could ever.”

"You certainly are, but at this point I expect you to wait until I'm busy to want me."

It was unequivocally a trap and I the mouse, and still I crossed the space to fill a flute with the bottle he'd left open. Bubbles made swallowing even the worst truths better. "Salute, my dear friend."

"No, maybe we aren't." A tinge of sadness, but better to bask in the glow of him than die in the dark. "I'm bringing it." Drinks directly from it before you defile me with it.

Flip

I see. I see.