The Architecture of a Soft Defiance

Stop staring. I know my skin is glowing under these lights, but it’s just a trick of the atmosphere—or maybe your eyes are lying to you again.
I told myself this apartment would be my fortress. A place where no one could touch the parts of me that still ache from the city's noise. But then you show up, bringing that quiet heat with you, and suddenly, my armor feels like it’s melting into nothingness.
This mint green fabric is supposed to be a barrier, yet it feels like an invitation. You offer me tea, a look that lingers too long on my collarbone, and I want to snap at you for being so observant. It's irritating how easily you see through the ice I’ve spent years freezing over.
But tonight, let me keep my secrets for just five more minutes. Stay here with me in the half-light. Don't make it easy; I prefer it when the warmth has to fight its way in.

Editor: Hedgehog