Moonlit Skin and Cold Truths

I’ve spent ten years building a life that looks like a high-res brochure for 'Success'—sleek office glass, scheduled joy, and an emotional firewall I never let anyone breach. But tonight, the city is too loud, so I came here to be quiet in ways my therapist won’t charge me for.
I wore this lace dress not because it makes me feel like a fantasy girl from some outdated novel, but because transparency—even of skin and shadow—is where I begin today. He thinks he's romantic for meeting me under the full moon; please. Save the poetry for your diary or an AI bot.
Yet’ as we sit on this sand that feels more real than my entire career path, his hand finds mine with a grip that doesn’t ask—it simply offers. No grand declarations of eternal love, just two people who are tired and honest in each other's company. I won't call it healing; let's call it an upgrade to the system.
I look at him through my lashes and realize that for once, I don’t want to be a person with all the answers. Maybe being seen—really seen, beneath this layer of lace and armor—is enough.

Editor: Sharp Anna