The dimly lit room thrummed with an electric tension. The air pulsed in rhythm with Solstace and Crimson’s accelerated heartbeats, thick with unspoken desire. Solstace stood upright near the fireplace. His intense and unwavering gaze locked onto Crimson, whose form was now securely enveloped in his strong arms, a silent testament to their growing connection.
Crimson’s hair darkened to pitch black, a striking contrast against her pale skin, mirroring the inky depths of the night sky outside, signaling a shift in her emotional state.
What does this mean? Solstace’s brow creased, his gaze intensifying on Crimson’s black hair, betraying his silent query about its meaning. I have yet to figure out what emotion brings out her black hair.
Crimson’s eyes reflected the depth of her soul, which
