In the sauna's heavy heat, Sanchez leaned back, casually sipping from a bottle of chocolate syrup.
He didn't just drink it; he practically worshipped it, savoring every drip like it was the world's finest nectar. Hugo, sitting nearby, watched in growing discomfort.
The sight—and the sounds—of Sanchez's chocolate indulgence made Hugo's own throat feel dry, and he couldn't stop thinking about how amazing that syrup must taste.
Finally, Hugo couldn't take it anymore. "Uh... Sanchez, think I could get my own syrup bottle? You know, for, uh, focus?"
Sanchez raised an eyebrow, as if Hugo had just asked for a rare treasure. "Focus? This syrup, my dear boy, is a precision tool. You start gulping it down, and poof—your concentration's gone."
He took another overly loud sip, letting the chocolaty goodness linger.
Hugo raised an eyebrow, "Is that scientifically proven, or are you just hogging the syrup?"
