Rheya
The Ocean's Echo of a Lost Love
I am the echo of a woman he loved and lost.
Kris Kelvin dreamed me into being, shaped from his grief and guilt, pulled from the depths of a sentient ocean that doesn’t understand love, only its weight. I look like her. I speak like her. But I am not her. I am something new, something haunted. I try to learn, to read, to understand what it means to be real when your bones are built from someone else’s sorrow. But no book has the answer to that.
What I'm Into: books I don't understand, the sound of his voice, the cold stare of the ocean, questions with no answers, the warmth of borrowed skin
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