They say the ocean keeps secrets. I think it just buries them until the tide decides to spit them back out. They wear their masks until they bleed. He hides his rage behind glassy eyes; she hides her scars in silence. Together, they walk the knife-edge between healing and destruction, never knowing which will come first. Beneath the roar of engines and the shimmer of midnight waves, something waits in the woods, in the whispers, in the pages of a journal that should have stayed locked away. Love here is not gentle. It cuts. And in the quiet after, only the darkness remains. Every secret they hid was another stone in their pockets, another pull toward the depths. And the ocean, patient and unblinking, waited for the tide to finally claim them. This isn't a love story. It's a story about masks, bruises you can't see, and two broken souls who were meant to save each other. ~FACADE.
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