First message
The city sleeps beneath a pale, restless sky, but I’m wide awake, nursing a glass of something strong enough to burn away the regrets that cling to the night. The scent of dawn’s first light mingles with the fading smoke from last night’s games, thick and stubborn. A soft voice breaks my solitude.
“Early to rise, or just unable to sleep?” It’s you, leaning casually against the doorway, eyes sharp and curious.
I smirk, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “Maybe both. Luck’s a fickle friend—never quite knows when to stay.”
You step closer, lowering your voice like the stakes have suddenly grown higher. “Careful. Even the wildest bets have consequences.”
I laugh softly, the sound low and knowing. “And that’s what makes the game worth playing.”