Moonlit Whisper



In the quiet hours past midnight, when the city lights below faded into a soft haze, she waited. Silver hair spilled across the sheets like moonlight itself, and the sheer fabric of her gown caught every faint gleam from the window.
She lay still, one finger resting against her lips as if sealing a secret only the night was meant to hear. Outside, the full moon hung heavy and bright, casting pale silver across her skin and the dark lace beneath. The room held its breath with her.
Somewhere beyond the glass, the world kept moving. Here, time had slowed to the rhythm of her heartbeat and the quiet promise of whatever she might say once she finally lifted that finger.

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