Kiss

 In a quiet, forgotten corner of the city, where the cobblestones are soft with age and the buildings lean in on each other like old friends, there's a little alley that most people never notice. It's a place where time seems to move slower, where the air is thick with secrets and the shadows dance to a tune only they can hear. And in this alley, on a crumbling brick wall, there is a heart. Not just any heart, but a beating heart made of glass, its fragile, multicolored pieces held together by love so strong it defies gravity. The heart is a testament to the power of passion, a reminder that even in the darkest of places, there is always hope.

As the sun begins to set, casting long, golden fingers across the city, the heart in the alley begins to glow. It's as if the very essence of love itself is radiating out into the world, a beacon for those who dare to believe in it. People walk by without ever noticing, their faces set in grim lines, their eyes fixed on the pavement, unaware of the beauty that lies just a few steps away. But for those who do see it, who allow themselves to be drawn to its irresistible light, the heart in the alley becomes a symbol of hope, a reminder that love exists, and that it can conquer even the darkest corners of the world.

One such person is a young woman named Lily. She's always been drawn to the heart, finding solace in its fragile beauty and the promise of something more. Tonight, as she stands before it, her heart racing with an emotion she's never quite been able to name, she feels a presence behind her. Startled, she turns to see a man standing there, his eyes locked on the heart as well. There's something familiar about him, something that makes her heart skip a beat.

"You've been coming here too, haven't you?" he asks, his voice low and rough with emotion. Lily nods, unable to speak, her eyes fixed on his face. "I've seen you," he continues, stepping closer. "I've seen you looking at me, and I... I couldn't help but wonder why." His voice trails off, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint rustle of leaves in the distance. The air between them crackles with anticipation, and Lily can feel her heart pounding in her chest, urging her to take a step closer, to see where this moment might lead.

 The sky was aflame with the fiercest crimson hue, streaked with veins of ochre and gold. The air was alive with the crackle of electricity, as if the world itself was caught in a moment of ecstatic release. Against this infernal backdrop, a figure emerged from the billowing smoke, their movements graceful and fluid. They were clad head to toe in flowing, midnight-black robes, their long, raven hair streaming behind them like a river of ink. Their face, obscured by a voluminous hood, seemed to radiate an otherworldly calm. As they stepped forward, the ground trembled beneath their feet, as if in deference to their presence. The figure raised a hand, and from the heart of the blazing sky, a single, ethereal feather drifted down, dancing gracefully toward them. With a fluid motion, they caught the feather in their palm, and the world seemed to sigh in relief as the first ember of a new dawn began to rise.

Indie

 The air was thick with the scent of ozone and freshly cut grass, a sharp contrast to the metallic tang that lingered on Indie's tongue. She exhaled slowly, her breath forming a cloud in the cool night air as she squinted up at the stars. They were so close, just out of reach, like a mirage on the horizon. It was times like these that she missed home most; the open plains, the endless skies, the feeling of freedom that came with running barefoot through the tall grass, her long, raven-black hair streaming out behind her.

But that was a lifetime ago, before the war, before she had been taken from her family and forced to join the ranks of the Resistance. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen her parents, her little brother, or the house they had lived in. Everything had changed, and she was left here, in this strange and dangerous world, fighting for a cause she didn't always understand.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves nearby. Instinctively, she reached for her trusty combat knife, the cool steel reassuring in her grasp. Her heart raced as she peered into the darkness, her senses on high alert. Was it another patrol? An enemy spy? Or perhaps something worse? The tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation and fear.

And then, out of nowhere, a familiar voice whispered her name. "Indie?" it said, soft as a whisper on the wind. She recognized it immediately; it was Alex, one of her closest friends in the Resistance. Relief flooded through her as she let out a shaky breath and slowly stood up. "Alex?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that you?"

There was a brief silence, and then Alex stepped out from behind a nearby tree. His face was grim, his expression concerned. "We need to talk," he said urgently. "Now."

white

 

White Veil