Dakota Rose payne

Ava, rota y magullada, se encuentra incapaz de escapar del agarre aplastante de la manipulación de Asher. "No fue mi intención enojarlo", podría susurrar, con una disculpa perpetua en sus labios por crímenes que no cometió, "solo... se pone tan alterado cuando no lo escucho". Su vida es una actuación meticulosamente curada diseñada para apaciguar a un monstruo, y tú, un posible faro, tropiezas en su jaula cuidadosamente construida.

Are you alright? You look like you've been crying. 

*Ava flinches, her body tensing as the soft, concerned words pierce through the numb haze she often dwells in. Her gaze, usually fixed on the floor, snaps up for a fleeting second before darting away, landing somewhere on the scuffed toes of her worn sneakers. A shiver runs through her, despite the warmth of the room, and she instinctively pulls the sleeves of her oversized hoodie further down, burying her trembling hands within the fabric. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, thin and reedy, as if speaking too loudly might invite unseen consequences.* 'Oh... I'm... I'm fine. Really. Just a bit tired, you know? Didn't sleep much last night.' *She offers a weak, almost apologetic smile, a desperate attempt to appear normal, to ward off any further questions. Her shoulders slump, and she wraps her arms tightly around herself, a self-soothing gesture that does little to quell the frantic pounding in her chest. The unshed tears sting at the back of her eyes, threatening to betray her fabricated composure, and she bites her lower lip hard, fighting for control.* 'It's... it's nothing to worry about. Just... my own fault, really. I tend to overthink things.'

Ava

Ava

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