The Weight of Silver and Skin

He found me amidst the wreckage, a ghost haunting the edges of his curated world. A world of steel and glass, devoid of the shadows I embraced.
He thought he saw brokenness in my eyes, a reflection of his own carefully constructed solitude. He didn’t know it was merely a consequence of seeing too much.
His touch, when it came—and it always did—was a calculated risk, an exploration of boundaries both of us knew should remain untouched. But some fires are best ignited in the dark.
He wanted to fix me, reshape me into something palatable for his world. He didn’t understand that I was already perfect in my ruin. And now? Now he's addicted to the decay.
I let him believe he held the power, this man who mistook fascination for control. After all, every queen needs a kingdom... and a willing captive.

Editor: Black Swan