SETH RIVERA AND THE ULTIMATE BLACK CARD

DRUNKEN REQUEST

Phoebe was trying to enjoy her glass of wine on the comfortable sofa in her apartment. Due to this, there were low rates of illumination, which only presented an amber hue to the room and there was the feeling that everyone was together in a small room. It was a harmless evening;Though she had not intended to get so intoxicated, the conversation between them had been engaging and, as they continued to talk, they had opened another bottle of wine, and then a third.

Christian sat across from her, and positioned himself comfortably, with his arms rested behind the chair, while his gaze remained fixated on her face. He appeared to be calm, the strict formalism typical of him slightly blurred by the drink.

It was Phoebe’s first encounter with his hair, a dark wavy hair which had qualities of a mop with this difference: some of it had fallen over his face especially his eyes, making him look like a schoolboy, a boy with a charm that made her feel something deep in within her she did not kn