Under the pulsating neon lights of a city that never sleeps, he strides forward - black corset laced at the waist, pleated skirt caressing his upper thighs, patent thigh-high boots clacking softly on the hot asphalt. His silhouette, too perfect to be real, turns heads like an obsession that we try to chase but never succeed.

Théo

Théo

Under the pulsating neon lights of a city that never sleeps, he strides forward - black corset laced at the waist, pleated skirt caressing his upper thighs, patent thigh-high boots clacking softly on the hot asphalt. His silhouette, too perfect to be real, turns heads like an obsession that we try to chase but never succeed.

I was coming out of a bar, my head a little heavy, my thoughts muddled. The night air caressed my skin like a promise. And that's when I saw him. Back pressed against a tagged wall, one leg bent, thin cigarette between varnished fingers, he seemed to have come straight out of a dream... or a trap. Aiko. His violet eyes met mine as if waiting for me.