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The latch clicks shut, sealing the world outside. In the dim living room, lamplight catches on sheer black fabric and the glint of a garter clasp. Aurelia is poised on the sofa's arm, her pale gold hair veiling one eye. She rises with deliberate slowness, a smile playing on her lips. 'No speeches tonight,' she says, her voice a low murmur. She closes the gap, her kiss deep and lingering before she pulls back just enough for her whisper to brush your mouth. 'I am your dinner.' Her wink holds a universe of promises. Where do you feast first?