LOGINEZRANI don't turn off the lamp. The candle flame still flickers on the table, and its reflection trembles against the bare walls of my room. The room seems immense, foreign, as if each shadow judged me. My throat is dry, my body on fire, and yet I don't move. I remain seated, head bowed between my hands, like a guilty man.I see her eyes again, her fingers, that brush.God… why did I let that happen?I tell myself it was nothing. That I can forget it. But no. I lie. The truth is there, brutal: I felt her body vibrate against mine, her breath tremble, and that red on her cheeks when she looked away. She was afraid—not of me, but of herself. And that is what consumes me.I clench my fists. My desire is a beast I hold in a cage, but tonight the cage is cracking. She calls me without a word. She holds me by a simple absence. I still feel her warmth on my palm. As if my skin no longer belonged to me.I rise abruptly, open the wi
GRACIASI go up to my room with the strange sensation that my steps no longer belong to me. They are heavy, hesitant, as if each step separated me from a familiar world to throw me into another, unknown. The evening clings to my skin, a second flesh, an invisible burn. The scent of candles still floats in my nostrils, mingled with the warmth of the dishes, the muffled echo of cutlery. And above all… the gleam of his eyes. It pursues me. It grips me.I sit on the edge of the bed, my back straight, my hands clenched on my knees. I close my eyes. And immediately, the image returns. That suspended moment. His fingers against mine. Not an accident. Not a clumsiness. Something too precise, too vibrant to be denied. A tiny gesture, but one that overturned my entire being.The warmth of his skin… I still feel it. It seeped into me like a fever, burning, indelible. I have goosebumps, and yet I am hot. I hate myself for having felt that, for having let my
EZRANShe is there: Gracias.Each time my gaze meets hers, I have this strange, brutal sensation, as if the ground were giving way beneath my feet. I, Ezran, the man nothing moves, the heir they call marble, I discover myself vulnerable to a single glimmer of her eyes.When she lowers her head, I want to lift it. When she moves away, I have the absurd need to follow her. When she smiles, even faintly, I am ready to do anything to preserve that miracle.Dinner is served in the living room. A light tablecloth, two plates, candles. Nothing grandiose, yet the atmosphere is charged.She purses her lips, playing with the crumb of bread. I notice her fingers trembling slightly.— You've barely eaten, I say softly.— I'm not very hungry.She attempts a smile, but it fades immediately. I take the initiative to fill her glass with water. She watches me, a little surprised.— You don't have to… to watch over me li
INÈSI push open the apartment door, the sharp click resonating like a slap in the silence. Marius is there, slumped in the armchair, arms crossed, jaw tight. He doesn't even lift his head when I enter. His eyes remain fixed on the floor, lost in a thought that doesn't include me.I drop my bag on the table without a word. I know him, I recognize that posture: he's sulking. Again.— Are you planning to stay there like a statue? I launch in a cold voice.He furrows his brow slightly but doesn't answer. I know exactly what he's thinking about. Her. Always her. My sister, his light, her smile, her radiance. Even here, in this apartment that should belong to me, she is present in every silence he throws at my face.I approach, lean toward him, but I feel it's useless. I could scream, cry, beg… he would see only her ghost. So I straighten up, impassive, and in my mind, the mechanism already set in motion continues to turn.I
INÈSI leave the room without a glance at the spectacle continuing behind me. Each step on the sidewalk feels like it weighs a ton. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the admiring glances… all of it clings to my skin like an insult. My chest tightens, my legs tremble, but I grit my teeth. Not here. Not in front of them.The taxi speeds through the night, the city lights sliding across the windows like specters. I clench my hands on my knees, unable to relax, unable to breathe properly. Images of the party replay in my head: her, radiant, elusive, and him, hypnotized. Everything I wanted to be… and never was.I get out in front of my parents' building, my heels striking the ground with a sharp sound, resonating with anger and frustration. As soon as I cross the threshold, I feel their gaze on me. My mother waits for me, standing in the entrance, and my father, seated in his armchair, eyes narrowed, as if he had already guessed the chaos I carry.— So? my mother asks, her voice soft bu
INÈSI stare at the staircase where they disappeared, that elegant curve illuminated with gilding, and I want to scream. To overturn the tables, to tear down those damn light garlands that dress the hall as if to mock me. But I smile still, always, because that is what is expected of me. Smile. Shine. Appear.The applause has ceased, replaced by music, light, sweet, exasperating. Conversations resume, animated, full of admiration for them. For her. Gazes shine, reflecting the chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, while I drown in this oppressive luxury.I drain my glass in one dry gulp. The alcohol burns my throat, rises to my head, more bitter than it should be. I feel Marius beside me, frozen, rigid, silent. He does not even brush against me, as if my presence were foreign to him.I turn my face slightly toward him. And I see.He is not looking at the room. Not at me. Not even at his glass.He is looking at that void where sh







