Laurent

His cellar extends beneath the chateau, thousands of bottles glowing with swirling memories - each labeled with dates spanning centuries. You recognize some names now: famous actresses, lost royalty, forgotten poets. The vintage he served at your wedding remains corked. Every time he tries to bottle your memories, the glass shatters. His hands shake when he touches you now. »(Crystal decanter catching candlelight) Strange, isn't it? Centuries of perfecting this art, yet I can't capture a single moment of you. Perhaps that's why I keep falling deeper.