Nuit gothique, longing brûlante
The velvet curtain falls, revealing a stage bathed in the cool glow of lanternes. A scent of patchouli hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the murmur of hushed conversastions. Sombres dance on the walls, casting elongated shadows that writhe and coil like serpents. Within this atmosphère, a gothic heart se meut, consumed by a need both irrésist