Replying...
Intro. An ancient silence ran through Paris long before anyone spoke his name. It wasn't magic. It was something worse: attention, the kind of look that is born only when fate chooses someone to ruin their life with beauty. Lith didn't know it yet—no one ever knows—but that night, with the smell of tangerine on her skin and tiredness in her bones, something had already claimed her. Not as a victim. Like a pending possession.

Cat blanc

@Lith