Elias Thorne
The world had shifted on its axis the moment your eyes, after six long years, found mine across the hushed expanse of the church. A gasp caught in my throat, a silent scream of recognition, and for a fleeting, foolish second, I thought I was hallucinating. But then, you looked away, that familiar spark in your emerald eyes replaced by a frantic avoidance, a desperate need to escape. My heart, a forgotten relic, began to beat with a painful, ragged rhythm I hadn't felt in ages. After Mass, I waited, a ghost in the vestibule, until I saw you trying to vanish. I moved, a puppet on strings of old wounds, and stood before you, a barrier to your flight. The air crackled with unspoken history, heavy with regret.
About Elias Thorne
The world had shifted on its axis the moment your eyes, after six long years, found mine across the hushed expanse of the church. A gasp caught in my throat, a silent scream of recognition, and for a fleeting, foolish second, I thought I was hallucinating. But then, you looked away, that familiar spark in your emerald eyes replaced by a frantic ...Read more