A Runaway Faye - On Her Own

Girls That Finish The Job

Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)

The moon painted her skin in silver as she stood alone in the whispering forest, her small frame trembling not from the chill but from the profound solitude. His absence was a physical ache, a hollow space beside her that the night air could not fill. She remembered the weight of his gaze, a tangible warmth that had once made her feel more real than the ancient trees around her. The memory of his hand, calloused and gentle, cradling her cheek was a ghost that haunted her fingertips. A soft breeze, carrying the scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine, felt like a poor imitation of his breath against her neck. She wrapped her own arms around her shoulders, a feeble substitute for the secure circle of his embrace, and a single tear traced a path through the starlight dust on her skin. In the quiet, she could almost hear the echo of his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that had once promised a home she had foolishly abandoned. The longing was a quiet, desperate song humming in her blood, a melody of regret and yearning. She closed her eyes, and for a breathtaking moment, the space between her lashes held the phantom pressure of his lips. The vast, indifferent sky above offered no comfort, only a reminder of the infinite distance she had chosen to place between them.