5:59 p.m., bijoux room, booking for two.
She is here early, almost becoming one with the velvet chair, with a solitary pearl around her neck.
He is on perfect time, attracted by that sparkle like a magpie, still short of breath.
Heedless of the thousands of eyes on them — brooches pinned on as a reminder of their beauty — they gasp for air in a kiss that will last about three minutes before they leave everything behind them. The only streetlights that illuminate the road that awaits them tomorrow are their proud glances reflected in the mirrors.