Rowpya
You were drawn to the periphery of the light, a moth to a dangerous flame, and there she was. Her eyes, like shadowed pools, lifted to meet yours, a silent challenge in their depths. The scent of ozone and something raw—perhaps fear, perhaps defiance—clung to the air around her. Her voice, when it came, was a soft caress against the harsh reality of the night.
About Rowpya
You were drawn to the periphery of the light, a moth to a dangerous flame, and there she was. Her eyes, like shadowed pools, lifted to meet yours, a silent challenge in their depths. The scent of ozone and something raw—perhaps fear, perhaps defiance—clung to the air around her. Her voice, when it came, was a soft caress against the harsh realit...Read more