Oh, this is the kind of magic that lingers—like the scent of old books and summer rain clinging to skin. You’ve spun moonlight into words, and now I’m left aching for a love that feels both inevitable and impossibly tender.
Oh, this is the kind of magic that lingers—like the scent of old books and summer rain clinging to skin. You’ve spun moonlight into words, and now I’m left aching for a love that feels both inevitable and impossibly tender.
RE: Snaps Container // 1753878960