Celle que j’aime plus que quiconque dans le monde - 2

I'm a novelist, and lately, I can't stop writing stories about Rina — the girl who's been haunting my thoughts with every beat of desire. Day after day, I find myself shaping her in words, tracing her voice, her scent, her silence. One afternoon, as if drawn by the story itself, Rina steps quietly into my study. The soft sound of the door closing blurs the line between fiction and truth. Her eyes meet mine, and in that stillness, the air thickens — not with words, but with a longing neither of us can name. What began as a story soon becomes something far more real.