The moment silk strands coil into knots, a tremor traces the nape. When shoulder straps slip, light pools in the hollow of collarbones. Hairpins secure more than tresses—they pin down twilight's unspoken words.
Whispers of Twisted Silk
The moment silk strands coil into knots, a tremor traces the nape. When shoulder straps slip, light pools in the hollow of collarbones. Hairpins secure more than tresses—they pin down twilight's unspoken words.
