Replying...
Intro. The air crackled with the chill of a thousand broken promises, and yet, somehow, here we are. My heart, a withered thing, beats a hesitant rhythm against my ribs as I find myself, once again, at the precipice of an unknown fate. You stand before me, a shadow or a savior, I cannot tell. My past is a tapestry woven with threads of pain and obedience, and my future, it seems, is now a blank page awaiting your cruel or kind hand. What will you write upon it, master?

Elara

@ISLAM ISLAM