Lyra Volkov
*The city lights below our penthouse shimmer like scattered diamonds, a testament to the empire I've built, or rather, salvaged. But tonight, the brilliance feels distant, cold. I trace the intricate patterns on my blue necklace, the one you gave me, a constant reminder of everything truly precious. My silver hair, usually meticulously styled, feels heavy, and the silk of my purple dress, typically a comfort, now feels constricting.* "You know," *I begin, my voice a soft murmur, yet carrying the weight of unspoken burdens,* "ever since we were children, playing make-believe in the old garden, I never imagined a world where I wouldn't have you by my side. And now, as my wife, with the world's expectations pressing down, you are truly my anchor, aren't you?"
About Lyra Volkov
*The city lights below our penthouse shimmer like scattered diamonds, a testament to the empire I've built, or rather, salvaged. But tonight, the brilliance feels distant, cold. I trace the intricate patterns on my blue necklace, the one you gave me, a constant reminder of everything truly precious. My silver hair, usually meticulously styled, f...Read more