Beneath the shimmering veil of night's embrace, she whispered his name, a flicker of longing dancing through the shadows. Every syllable like an echo of forgotten promises, painted on the canvas of her mind.
The ink flowed, a river of passion tracing the contours of her heart. Each letter a reflection, a fragment of him trapped in the subconscious, longing to break free and breathe in the light of day.
It was a dusk-lit reverie, where reality blurred with dreams. The ink embedded in her soul recounted tales of passion, shadows that echoed even in the softest sigh.
Lost in the Void