It begins softly, like a whisper pressed against the chest, a weightless ache that refuses to leave. Longing is not loud; it is patient. It sits quietly in the hollow spaces between moments, in the silence after a name is thought but not spoken. Longing makes hours stretch like years. To long is to carry a hidden flame, one that refuses to die. Even in its ache, it is a quiet promise of hope, of return, of moments that is too vast to be silenced. ♡&♥ & ♡&♥
GEMINNA
It begins softly, like a whisper pressed against the chest, a weightless ache that refuses to leave. Longing is not loud; it is patient. It sits quietly in the hollow spaces between moments, in the silence after a name is thought but not spoken. Longing makes hours stretch like years. To long is to carry a hidden flame, one that refuses to die. Even in its ache, it is a quiet promise of hope, of return, of moments that is too vast to be silenced.
♡&♥ & ♡&♥
1 month ago | [YT] | 58