The Softest Cage of Silk and Stone

The stone steps rise like a spine, cold and rigid against the softening light of dusk. I stand here in my cage of silk, mint-green fabric draping over skin that feels too sensitive for this city's rough edges. You found me again, didn't you? Your gaze is heavy, an animalistic hunger masked by polite silence as it burns across my shoulder.

I turn to look at you, and the wild heat in your eyes nearly singes through the layers of traditional fabric I wear like armor. But when we touch—just a brush of fingers against this smooth tassel—it feels less like a hunt and more like coming home. You are the storm; I am the quiet sanctuary where it breaks.

Editor: Leather & Lace