owell! put your glances at @Delmeist ππ€π»
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Good night and rest well, owel. May August treat you better than your own expectations.
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technically its morning already, but good night, owell! ^οΌΏοΌΏ^ at two o'clock this morning Lorth's Yunah and I, Corwell's Jeemin sent messages to each other saying "gurl, kenapa kamu masih jaga bumi jam segini?π§π»ββ" then she said "use the mirror in your room π you're same as me!" then she had a chaotic idea by sending the message "put on your jacket now, i'll pick you up!" while wearing his best cropped long-sleeved t-shirt then suddenly standing in front of my window while knocking "psst! let's take a walk tonight, no one will know, except those of us who are passionate π" i just shook my head at the idea then opened the window, jumped from there with her pulling my hand then ran with me to the end of this silent city tonight :3 many things happened, such as loud laughter that almost made the security guard suspicious, midnight snacks; i know ice cream makes it even colder but we chuckle at buying it, and psst psst random cats on the street ππ» we're just like teenagers in general, right? :D
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β₯οΈ. βA Quiet Bond ; A tale behind cracked piano keys π
βββ I. Once, the rain changed its
mind. Only the hush of wind
remained and tiny footsteps
along an old wooden hall,
delivering a letter from beneath
the stairs. π
β± A tender friendship... (&. woven through gentle hours. Every word, adorned with wistful laughter. Among clinking teaspoons and warm honeyed tea, the feeling never faded like Celestineβs giggles, or Ernestβs sleepy hums in his rocking chair. They become lullabies, become illustrations, become the pale moon at the window waiting quietly for us to return. For those being celebrated, @clardforge @TheStahlbaum @TheRuneshard @HeirsOfMoriarty love isnβt always loud. Sometimes it arrives like a small cat: silent, soft, and unwilling to leave.
In the hush of silence,
something wordless lingered,
π π»ββοΈπΉ @CorwellWorld.
βββ I. Once, the rain changed its
mind. Only the hush of wind
remained and tiny footsteps
along an old wooden hall,
delivering a letter from beneath
the stairs. π
β± A tender friendship... (&. woven through gentle hours. Every word, adorned with wistful laughter. Among clinking teaspoons and warm honeyed tea, the feeling never faded like Celestineβs giggles, or Ernestβs sleepy hums in his rocking chair. They become lullabies, become illustrations, become the pale moon at the window waiting quietly for us to return. For those being celebrated, @clardforge @TheStahlbaum @TheRuneshard @HeirsOfMoriarty love isnβt always loud. Sometimes it arrives like a small cat: silent, soft, and unwilling to leave.
In the hush of silence,
something wordless lingered,
π π»ββοΈπΉ @CorwellWorld.
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