↳ ❝ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 ... 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒. ❞
The caverns of her dark soul were built from shards of shattered glass; each a testament to the labyrinth of trauma she has truly...
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𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 her living room, Khairiah sits, her gaze transfixed upon the flickering flame of a candle.
She's enveloped within the darkness, veiled by the shroud of her own uncertainty. The soft glow of the solitary candle illustrates small shadows of light across her angled features - deepening the metallic hue of her irises. Khairiah blinks every so often, but her stare remains on the small light - mind echoing the waves of a tempestuous sea that holds the relics of the inexplicable events that took place over the last few days.
Her hand, guided by an invisible force, reaches out to touch the flame. It's a delicate ballet of curiosity and introspection - an unfathomable yearning to bridge her intangible emotions with the corporeal world. Khairiah's fingertip hovers, suspended in the ephemeral space just above the fire.
