In moonlight's hush, a rose does bloom,
Soft petals kissed by starry plume.
She leans into the silver night,
A whisper bathed in twilight's light.
No thorns to harm, no roots to bind,
Just drifting dreams the stars designed.
In silent grace, they intertwine-
The moon, the rose, the soft divine.
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Story by moonroselle
When He Called Me Soft
He was raised to fight.
She was raised to feel.
In a war-torn world where magic scorches the skies and loyalt...