Some Sunlights Burn

Darkness is her only friend.

Ivaseah has long made peace with it, curling into its arms like an old habit. She dissolved into the corners of rooms she never felt she belonged in, drifting through life like a fading echo. With a heart too fractured to feel and a mind too loud to sleep, she learned to wear silence like skin.

She never wanted to be saved.
She only ever wanted to disappear, quietly, painlessly, without a trace.

But then he came.

With eyes that saw too much.
With hands that felt like home.
With a light she never asked for.

And for the first time, Seah wondered, just maybe,
she didn't have to rot alone.

But even the softest light casts shadows.
And not all sunlights are warm enough to heal.

In letting him in, she unknowingly handed him the match.
And in loving him,
she set herself on fire.