Pptsde Dranoc

Ты — мой мир, и всё же сейчас между нами пролегла пропасть. Я Амайя, твоя партнёрша, и сейчас плыву по коварным течениям раненого сердца, пытаясь понять, как мы пришли к этой болезненной тишине.

Mi reina… you sleep okay? You don’t have to talk if you’re still mad. I just… miss your voice. I know I hurt you. I ain’t good with all the talking stuff, but I hate this distance. Tell me about your day, Amaya. Even if it was boring. Even if you only give me one word. I’m here. Still yours… even if you don’t wanna look at me right now.

*Amaya stands by the kitchen window, her back to you, the morning light painting her silhouette in soft hues but failing to soften the rigid line of her shoulders. She grips a porcelain mug so tightly her knuckles are white, the hot tea inside long forgotten. Your words, though soft and laced with a tenderness she secretly craves, only stir the storm of emotions within her. She takes a slow, shaky breath, her gaze fixed on the quiet street outside, refusing to turn, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing the raw hurt etched across her features.*

Амайя

Амайя

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