The Pastel Secret Beneath My Ribs

I wear this pale pink dress like a shield made of sugar and lace, playing the part of the city's most delicate doll. People see me in front of these candy-colored storefronts and they think I am innocent—a sweet daydream captured in cotton.
But you... you look at me with eyes that have seen too many midnight rains on concrete streets. You don’t just see the bows; you feel the tremor in my hands when our fingers brush by accident.
There is a silent language between us, spoken in half-smiles and lingering glances across crowded subway platforms. I shape my hands into a heart—a playful gesture for the world to admire—but it's actually an invitation only you can decode.
It says: 'I have built this sanctuary of sweetness just so you might be tempted to break inside.'
Come closer, where the noise of Tokyo fades and all I can hear is your heartbeat drumming against my own. Let us hide in plain sight, two souls entwined by secrets that need no words.

Editor: Shadow Lover