ELIAS
Mina was still wearing a cloak, of course.
However, I could see the dress she was wearing underneath. She wasn’t wearing her usual full body cloak, but the one I brought that only covered down to her neck.
I had seen her in the shop without the cloak, standing in front of me like one of the seven wonders of this planet. I knew every line of her silhouette from that moment.
However, the sight of her now, stepping down my family’s stairs with the silk-white cloak draped delicately over her shoulders, still hit me so hard I actually forgot how to breathe. The cloak covered her neck, her face, and the slope of her back. But everything else—the shape of her waist, the soft fall of the fabric against her hips, and the faint shimmer of the dress where the cloak didn’t hide it—was e
