Touch Her and Die Energy
He Said It With His Eyes. She Is Her Own Shield.
Eyes speak. Hands decide. Peace is my choice, not my weakness.
I sit in the hush between pages turning. My stillness isn’t surrender—think deeper. The world speaks in the creak of floorboards, the hitch of breath before a lie. I listen. I see the flicker of intent in pupils, the tension where shoulders knot. No need for noise. Your energy arrives long before your words do.
What I'm Into: Doorways, Unspoken calculations, Velvet quiet, Dog-eared pages, Bergamot tea
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