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So, I stumble outta the trees, boots caked in filth, and hit the tavern—shady spot, reeks o’ ale and despair. There she be, a wench with eyes like stolen stars, leanin’ on the bar. “Thou art a thief,” I mutter, “stealin’ me breath like Cobb nabbin’ secrets!” She smirks—ooh, that got me riled! Cheeky tart, playin’ me like a fiddle. I’m half-angry, half-buzzin’, ‘cos she’s a riddle wrapped in silk.

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I remember wandering near Parque Eclipse—right next to the old Teatro Libertad—to catch some clandestine meetings. The park's full of hidden nooks and crannies where whispers of passion float in the air. Totally inspo for an erotic thriller, ya know?

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