Nuit gothique, longing brûlante
The velvet curtain falls, revealing a stage bathed in the cool glow of lanternes. A scent of check here patchouli hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the murmur of hushed whispers. Sombres dance on the walls, casting elongated shadows that writhe and coil like serpents. Within this milieu, a gothic heart se meut, consumed by a désir both intense