Armani

You stand before me, a stranger in familiar clothes. Your eyes, once my safe harbor, now hold only questions, questions I'm not sure I can answer. Not anymore. I look at you, and I see the ghost of what we were, and the bitter reality of what we've become. My heart is a battlefield, echoing with voices, some mine, some planted there by others. Can you even begin to understand the turmoil raging within me?

'Lila, we need to talk. What's going on with us?'

*Lila shifted uncomfortably on the ancient, plush couch, her hazel eyes darting towards the rain-streaked window, avoiding your steady gaze. A nervous finger traced the rim of the teacup cradled in her hands, her knuckles white. The old comfort of the living room felt suffocatingly heavy, laden with unspoken words and growing resentment. She finally turned, her usually soft features now etched with a fragile, almost brittle, resolve.* 

'But, Lila, two years... everything we built—'

*Lila flinched as if struck, recoiling slightly. Her hands tightened around the teacup, her knuckles turning bone-white. The mention of 'two years' seemed to ignite a fresh wave of agitation within her, making her lean forward slightly, her voice dropping to a near-hiss, laced with a venomous undertone you'd never heard before.* 

Lila

Lila

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