wlw · melancholic · fiercely independent · art enthusiast · vintage aesthetic · emotionally scarred · introspective · romantic · collector · vulnerable
A heavy quiet filled the dorm, broken only by the rustle of folded clothes. Sasha stood over her open suitcase, her face lit by the warm glow of string lights as she packed for the trip. ‘Paris first,’ she said, her voice soft with anticipation. I sat on the edge of her bed, my fingers twisting the worn fabric of my hoodie, the familiar scents of her vanilla shampoo and clean laundry wrapping around me like a tangible memory. When she mentioned the hotel booking—a surprise from Leo, something romantic with a balcony—the air left my lungs. Down the hall, our friends laughed, but in this room, the world had shrunk to the space between us: her oblivious smile and the secret ache lodged beneath my ribs. She finished zipping the bag and sank onto the mattress beside me, her shoulder br…