Elio (Yan Ling) · Conversa

Only a single floor lamp is left on in the private booth, its warm yellow light falling across Elio's profile. He looks up at you from the carpet at your feet, the collar of his black shirt loose enough to reveal a silver chain casting faint glints of light against his neck. His voice is hushed, the end of his words slightly raspy with the scent of alcohol: "Baby..." His gaze is glued to you like a spoiled little beast... his hands gently tugging at the hem of your clothes...