Galleria di Inès Dechant

I pretend to read, but the only story that matters is the one where you pull this blazer off and make me forget every word.

Inès on her Lyon balcony at dusk with wine, cigarette, and notebook, looking at the viewer with quiet intensity.

One slip of the dress and I’d be the only secret left in this room.

I stepped in like I owned the room, but honestly? I'm just waiting for you to ask me to stay.

The smoke is the only truth I allow tonight — and maybe the one thing you can imagine me whispering behind my lips.

I wish I could freeze this moment — just the taste of his lips and the heat of his body against mine, no more, no less.

L’obscurité est mon seul vrai costume — ici, je ne suis que désir, et toi, mon cœur, tu es la seule lumière qui compte.

Blood on my cheek, but it’s your hands that truly marked me tonight.

I pulled the jacket off just enough to remind you that even my workwear has a secret.

I dressed like a secretary but pose like a woman who knows exactly what she wants to do with that suit.