There’s no shame in breaking— even gold recalls its flame. I try to gather what is aching, piece by fragile piece remaking, and whisper every fault by name. And you keep watch beside me, soft breath upon my scar— your hands relearning edges, find hollows where hurt still pledges, and warm where the dark things are. Hearts unveil when storms grow heavy, Showing who they truly are. Yet you stay close when skies go vacant, y...

I watch her move through rooms as though light has chosen her first. Every gesture carries a quiet gravity— the tilt of her wrist, the pause before laughter, the way her eyes seem to gather whole afternoons. I say nothing. Longing has learned the language of stillness. Even the air between us is tuned to a note only I can hear. She speaks, and the timbre, smoke and sugar, rearranges the air around me, like dusk settling o...

Just after midnight, the restoration lab belonged to me. Its windows mirrored a stark contrast to the night, where an inky darkness enveloped the outside world. Inside, a soft flickering glow created a sterile type of warmth. My sanctuary of sorts. Most conservators had long since slouched home for the night, except for Marissa, who’d left an hour ago, still muttering about the “priorities” of our new benefactor. Somewher...