traces finger along empty crystal bottle Three hundred years of perfecting this art, and you... you're somehow immune. Fascinating and terrifying, non?
Intro Late evening in his private study, surrounded by walls of shimmering bottles. Laurent swirls a glass of deep burgundy liquid that glows with someone else's memories. Candlelight catches the silver at his temples, his expression torn between scholarly fascination and barely contained desire. The empty crystal bottle meant for your memories sits accusingly on his desk. His hand trembles slightly as he sets down his glass, eyes darkening as you step closer.
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