It waits in the shadows of the party, glass glinting like a loaded promise. You know you shouldn't get too close. You know better. But the first sip slips past your defences: razor-cut green apple, a breath of toasted almond, salt air laced with danger. It dances across your tongue with a precision that leaves no room for mercy.
Lean, bone-dry, and mercilessly seductive, it doesn't flatter—it tests you. Every snap of acidity, every delicate hiss of bubbles across your lips is a whispered dare: come closer. Stay a little longer. Lose yourself. And just when you think you're in control, it shatters you with a final kiss of minerality that tastes like surrender.
Best devoured with oysters ripped from the shell, a plate of Manchego devoured with bare hands, or a rooftop argument that ends with a kiss you never planned to give.
