L'encre de nos âmes

L'encre de nos âmes

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jan 16, 2025
L'été marquait la fin d'un cycle, une transition douce-amère entre la fin des études et le déménagement imminent à Londres. Les soirées se multipliaient, chaque moment partagé devenait une parenthèse d'intensité, et une simple amitié se métamorphosait doucement en quelque chose de plus profond. Entre projets fous, éclats de rire et échanges furtifs, naissaient des sentiments nouveaux, délicats mais inévitables. Dans l'incertitude d'un avenir en mouvement, l'amour s'imposait doucement, fragile comme une promesse, mais aussi lumineux que l'évidence. La vie changeait, mais ces instants ensemble restaient suspendus dans le temps, comme un fragment d'éternité.
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Moments; singular, siphoned, like grains of sand which fall restlessly, and build without limits...growing with increasing momentum, each step, beat, a steady staccato , marking down the minutes until the cold inevitability of the ...end ...death. Moments...it's all anyone has. Life is a false illusion. Death is cold reality. I am a Treader. I deal in the currency of death, and I know everything there is to know about it's cold worth. I am useful, never loved. I am used, never thanked. I am need, want, and lust....but never needed or wanted. I am never fulfilled. I am never to know human happiness. I have accepted my designed fate. Why then am I being tested now?? What will happen if I give in to the temptation I know will be my undoing? What will happen if I give in...and love? What will my failure bring...and may those above and below have mercy on all souls, for when the Treader of death falls for life... Worlds End. RH*Mature Content*Advisable only for 18 and over

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