She leaned in, her lips inches from his, but her breath felt like a winter gale. “Some things are meant to be preserved, Julian. Warmth is just another word for decay. If I let you in, we both burn out. This way, we last forever.”
She arrived at midnight, a vision in white silk that looked like frozen moonlight. Elena. The woman whose touch was a fever dream and whose gaze was an arctic blast. She didn't walk; she glided through the smoke and the synth-pop beat as if the room belonged to her, and perhaps it did.
“Time is for people with something to lose,” she replied. Her voice was smooth, melodic, and utterly chilling.
She leaned in, her lips inches from his, but her breath felt like a winter gale. “Some things are meant to be preserved, Julian. Warmth is just another word for decay. If I let you in, we both burn out. This way, we last forever.”
She arrived at midnight, a vision in white silk that looked like frozen moonlight. Elena. The woman whose touch was a fever dream and whose gaze was an arctic blast. She didn't walk; she glided through the smoke and the synth-pop beat as if the room belonged to her, and perhaps it did.
“Time is for people with something to lose,” she replied. Her voice was smooth, melodic, and utterly chilling.
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