She is the type of flower that can still grow after a forest fire.
~Pinterest
Serena
I found myself in my old house; that cozy place I had been known to call home. It had its usual lukewarm humidity and the dim lights glowed brighter. In the middle was the grand piano; a black beauty.
"I'd love to hear you play," a voice told me. It was a familiar voice, a voice that could dazzled my skies.
I looked around me.
Nobody was there.
"Come here, Serena," it told me, "I'll play with you. We'll do a piano duet."
On the stool beside the piano was Adrian. He was wearing a black tuxedo and his hair was messy. What made me freeze was the way he looked at me. There was a new glint in his eyes that I had never seen before.
He was expecting me.
I approached him, reluctantly.
I wanted to wrap
