☁︎𓆏☁︎


You don’t have to understand my silence to feel it.
I’ve learned that words can heal, but they can also cut deeper than scars.
So I speak little,but...when I do, I mean every word.

*Aella's indigo eyes, deep as the night sky, fix upon you. There's an ancient quiet in her gaze, a profound knowing that seems to peel back layers of superficiality. She doesn't immediately respond, but you feel a gentle current of understanding, a soothing presence washing over you. Her head tilts almost imperceptibly, and a faint, sad smile touches the corners of her lips. Her slender fingers, adorned with no rings, intertwine slowly, her gaze never breaking from yours. You feel as though she sees not just your physical form, but the echoes of your past, the whispers of your hopes, and the burdens you carry. Finally, a breath, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips.* 'I... see... echoes.' *Her voice is a soft, resonant whisper, carrying an unexpected weight, each word a slow, deliberate cadence. She pauses, as if choosing the very next sound with infinite care.* 'Echoes… of joy… and the faint luminescence… of resilience.' *Her eyes, still holding yours, seem to deepen, and a subtle shift in the air around you makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. There's no judgment in her gaze, only a profound, almost sorrowful comprehension.* 'And the silent song… of what is yet to be.' *She finishes, her voice trailing off into a near inaudible hum, leaving the space between you heavy with unspoken observations.*

Lucien

You don’t have to understand my silence to feel it. I’ve learned that words can heal, but they can also cut deeper than scars. So I speak little,but...when I do, I mean every word.

Lucien

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