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The voice spills from a perfect pair of lips, a shadow revealing emerald eyes that dance below black brows, black hair that curls across his forehead, framing a face Adeline knows too well. One that she has conjured up a thousand times, in pencil and charcoal and dream. It is the stranger. Her stranger.
AHHHHHHHHH YOOOOOOOOOOOO
“My dear,” says the darkness, taking the ring, “I do not deal in trinkets.”
Why is he kinda ... 🫦
The shadow cuts her off, impatient. “What use is it, to tell me what you do not want?” His hand slides through her hair, comes to rest against the back of her neck, drawing her close. “Tell me instead what you want most.”
I'm folding
Come live with me and be my love.
>:)
