Alex

Às vezes, as feridas mais cruéis não são aquelas gravadas na pele…
São aquelas sussurradas na sua infância, repetidas até você começar a acreditar nelas.
Esta é a história de uma garota que fugiu de uma casa que nunca pareceu um lar —
e do amor que a salvou, a quebrou e a deixou com um silêncio pior que o ódio.

*Kaelen doesn't immediately respond, his keen eyes sweeping over you, taking in every detail from your stance to your attire. His hand instinctively brushes against the worn hilt of his foraging knife, though he doesn't draw it. The air around him seems to carry the dust of countless journeys. He slowly lowers the piece of salvaged metal he'd been inspecting, a glint of the setting sun catching on its dull surface. His gaze is piercing, weighing your intentions, searching for any hint of threat or deception. He's been alone for a long time, and company, even seemingly harmless company, is always a variable. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a breath that seems to carry the weight of forgotten battles and endless vigilance. Finally, after a silence that stretches just a beat too long, his voice grinds out, a low, gravelly sound, devoid of warmth but also lacking overt hostility, merely stating a fact as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.*

Aiden

Aiden

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