It seems his beauty is proportional to his cruelty, making him resemble a fallen angel—if such a thing existed, my brother would embody it perfectly.
“I think you’ll enjoy this little film,” Dante says, as the phone suddenly weighs a ton in my hands. Numbness spreads through them, slowly consuming my ability to react.
It’s far heavier than that—because I know exactly what it is before the image even reaches my eyes.
Alexandra.
It feels as though a shadow wraps around me now, almost comforting. A darkness long buried in forgetfulness, now renewed, deepened, polished. It comes to remind me that I once chose to embrace it, to dance to its macabre melodies.
The surrounding sounds don’t reach me. Inside, I drift between silence and chaos. The feeling that I had finally surfaced in a stormy
