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#ffxiv writing

“What’s he doin’, though?”

“Chain smokin,” said the chef, who was doing much the same–though he hadn’t been at it for the last hour. “Far’s I can tell.”

“But he’s just sittin’ there,” she argued. “He ain’t readin’ or eatin’ even.” 

This, the chef agreed, was a problem. Not that they had a lot of custom on days like today–if some boy wanted to order a cup of black Thanalan coffee and sit at a table and stare at the horizon for going on two and a half hours, who was he to argue?

“He looks a bit limp,” the chef finally said. “Prob’ly ent use t’the heat.”

The waitress folded her arms and frowned. It was a hot day, even for Drybone. The sky had that unbearable white haze to it, the air was perfectly still, and the heat acquired a physical weight that settled in over the course of a day until you could almost go mad with it.

“Hold on,” the chef whispered. “He’s movin’.”

They watched as the young duskwight shifted his chair, fractionally, two inches to the left and out of the creeping line of silent sunlight that was just beginning to encroach on the table. Once he’d finished, he resumed his silent staring out towards the aetheryte.

“Mebbe he’s waitin’ on someone,” the waitress said, still whispering. 

The chef considered this. He didn’t have that air of quiet alertness that suggested waiting. The lad was simply slumped in his chair, so far he’d slid about halfway under the table, shoulders hunched. He’d drunk about half the coffee, but that was an hour ago, and he’d barely moved since. 

“Dunno,” the chef finally said, wiping his hands on the faintly greasy apron. “But ‘e ain’t causin’ trouble, so just go ask the feller if he wants more coffee.” 

“I did,” the Miqo’te waitress hissed, tail bushing up. “Twice. ‘e just shook ‘is ‘ead ‘an said, ‘No thank you.’“ 

“Well ask ‘im again,” the chef rumbled. “What am I payin’ you for anyways?”

Looking highly put out, the waitress approached the table.

“Get you another cuppa coffee sir?” she said, with all the cheer one finds on the wrong end of a firing squad.

The young dusk glanced up–his head didn’t actually move, but his violet eyes flickered a fraction in her direction. He hadn’t even smoked his damn cigarette for minutes, and there was a long ilm of ash at the tip where it hung between two long fingers.

“No thank you,” he said, quietly.

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Softer Prompts Asks

I’yhara & R’khan. Tooth & Nail.


Yhara loved the kiss of the sun, even as it burned her cheeks. 

She lay in a place she often found herself, forgotten ruins teetering on the precipice of an overhang not far from the humble homes of Ala Gannha. The hardened ground at her back was a welcome for weary feet, dancing for as long as she’d done, and she felt the serenity of the abandoned place, so close to the open sky as she was. Not the same as home, but comforting in its own way. 

How long had it been, Yhara mused, when basking so freely was met with fear, discouragement, even? When her tribe had felt like beasts caged for slaughter, and when gunmetal coloured their skies more often than Rhalgr painted it with his streaks of levin? 

A lifetime ago, Yhara supposed. 

And yet still so alive in her memory.

A reminder of why she was so far from her family, with her brother. With their mother. Training to reclaim the imbalance of power the Imperials had imposed, and see that the scales be balanced once again. And then what? 

Yhara’s thoughts muddled as she felt herself drifting into a doze, and when she woke again the day was waning, giving way to a brisk breeze that raised bumps on her flesh. And something else, too. Instinct, prickling at the back of her neck and setting her on edge. Yhara steadied her breath, stiffening.

Her gaze swung to confront the feeling, ready to shout were her brother sneaking upon her to try his newest tricks, and instead found the sharp features of her fellow disciple, R’khan, his gaze fixated upon Yhara’s lounging form. Lacking lust but brimming with a tenderness Yhara hadn’t expected. Something meant to be secret.

He was a disciplined student, far more than Yhara had ever managed thus far, but the way he looked upon her now made her want to laugh, so lost in his staring he didn’t seem to notice her looking at first, and when he did…

“A-ah! Yhara!” R’khan’s spotted ears swept back, golden eyes widening as if a boy caught snatching sweets, and he swallowed, cheeks blooming red. “I uh…” A calloused hand rubbed the back of his neck, and he flashed a sheepish grin, sauntering forward. “Just wondering where you were at, I guess. Thought you might be here.” He swallowed again, feeling suddenly foolish, and doubly so when he saw the way she stared, as if she might see through him and lay his feelings bare. “You were practicing, yeah?” His voice cracked, and he coughed to clear his throat.

Yhara hummed. “Maybe. Came here just to see me? Hoping to catch a glimpse of me dancing again, were you?” Yhara teased, her tone gentle as she stood and turned to face him, the sanguine sunset framing her silhouette and painting flickering lights on the gold and brass adorning her body. “R’khan?”

“A-ah! Yeah? Right, sorry, I just uh, well—” 

Yhara held a hand forward, lips curling into a faint smile, and her gaze softened, mirroring the one he’d had not moments ago. 


“Dance with me.” 

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As the sun dipped down and the city walls cast shadows longer shadows, lamp-lighters made their way up the Avenue, armed with long hooked poles and a bucket of oil apiece. Merchants loaded up their wares and chocobo-drawn carts clattered over the cobblestones, heading for the gates…

…and new tradesmen came to take their place. 

You could buy anything in Ul’dah…just not at any time. As twilight descended, more…colorful figures began to emerge, packing the street, filling the exchange with new sights, smells, and sounds.

Overhead, the sky turned violet and a few lone stars began to twinkle. A wine merchant sloshed generous portions into clay cups. There was a smoky flare-up two stalls down when a kebab-seller spilled a chunk of pure dodo fat into the fire. A hooded fortune teller spread an old, embroidered cloth across a wooden board and began laying out their cards: The Ewer. The Spear. The Bole.

The jeweler’s stand became the charm-seller’s stall. Two leering Lalafel strutted up and down the street, accosting men and women with flyers for competing clubs. A man in leather leaned against a lamp-post, and quietly palmed off small vials to passerby, pocketing the gil they slipped him in return. 

Overhead, the dusk deepened, and the strip of sky overhead–not that anyone was watching–turned a rich shade of sapphire, before sliding into midnight black.

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WoLtober 2020

Day #11) A Dragon’s Cry


Primal - ‘eikons; magical beings worshiped by others; monsters’

<Warnings: Implied character deaths and possible triggers>

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The once peaceful, beautiful blue sky over now burns bright red with the burning of the city-states. The air is filled with the cries of Eorzea’s people, terror, and despair filling their voices. Katsum hears it all from her place on her pedestal at the head of the square, yet with the chains around her wrists and ankles, she can do nothing but sit on the cold and harsh stone slab. The war was over and somehow her strength had not been enough to save them from the forces of the empire. They had won and now set about shaping the entire world in the image they wished it to be in, reforming the “savages” and their primal ways. She was their trophy, the mighty warrior of Eorzea made an object and a slave as a sign of their victory. Here she had watched them execute her fellow Scions, powerless and helpless to stop it, only being able to pray for their souls to enter the halls of Heaven and find peace until she could join them. She had watched the executions of the Alliance leaders too, and the deaths of countless Eorzeans. Some had cried out to her for help, breaking her heart and spirit more as she could not move to help them. She could hear the voice of the Garlean people rising again and she knew another execution was coming, and so she raised her weakened gaze to the executioner’s block at the end of the plaza, and who she saw walking towards it caused her heart to stop and her body to move with a strength she thought lost to her.


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WoLtober 2020

Day #10) The Legend of Bridgette and the Dragon


Legend - ‘a story handed down by tradition from eariler times and accepted as historical though it may or may not be entirely accurate.’

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Please, Mama, pleeeeease?” The little Miqo’te looked up pleadingly with her ears and little tail wiggling excitedly as she watched a gentle smile spread across the face of her Hyur mother.

“You were supposed to be asleep long ago, Katsum dear,” Her mother’s gaze turned to the male Miqo’te whose lap Katsum was sitting in, “And you were supposed to make sure she got to sleep Rune.”

A sheepish grin spread across her father’s face as he chuckled and dropped his ears, running a hand nervously through his rust-colored hair, “Eh heh heh…yeah, I know…BUT,” He scooped up a giggling Katsum in his arms and held her close, “Come now, Lavena, could you ‘ave said no to this face?”

Katsum put on her best pouting expression, dropping her ears against her head and pouting her lip while her eyes sparkled sadly.

“See? I know I couldn’t as she looks just like you do, ‘aving the same hair and eyes,” Rune said before joining Katsum and making his own pouting face.

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WoLtober 2020

Day #7, 8, & 9) Of Past and Future


Talent - ‘a special or natural ability or aptitude’

Past - ‘the history of a person’

Future - ‘something that will exist or happen in time to come’

<Heavensward MSQ Spoilers ahead>

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It was late into the night as Katsum dragged her brush across the canvas, the moonlight lighting her painting as the firelight had long since died out. She leaned over to look past her canvas at her subject, smiling at the sleeping form of her dear Lord Commander, his bare chest glistening in the light with his hips and legs wrapped in the silk of their bedsheets. When she had started, he had been awake, grinning, and posing for her to make her giggle and blush as she painted, yet she was also glad he had found peace enough to fall asleep. It warmed her heart as she pulled the strap of her nightgown back up onto her shoulder, moving back to continue shading the elegant shadows around Aymeric’s form.

When he had learned she had a talent for painting, he had nearly begged her to paint something for him, a portrait of the two of them together that they could hang in their home. After a while, she agreed on the condition that she could paint him one day in whatever way she chose, and he had agreed with a sweet smile. It had been a while since she had finished their portrait though, and she’d finally pried herself from the warmth of the covers and the loving grip of her husband to pull out the easel and paints and finally sit down to paint.

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WoLtober 2020

Day #6) Common Ground


Revenge - ‘to take vengeance for; inflict punishment for; avenge’

<Warning: Some Heavenward MSQ and Shadowbringers MSQ spoilers>

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Do you really expect us to believe that your objective has suddenly changed?”

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She knows that she’s easily the most recognizable one of the warriors of light, that she could easily be recognized so she should just stay out of sight.

But there was something she had to do, someone she had to see before fleeing to Ishgard for who knew how long.

That meant she’d have to disguise herself.

So, with knife in hand, she cut the easily recognizable hairstyle she had away. it was so short now, but she wasn’t done. With a dye bottle, her hair and fur turned black as raven’s night, only the ends retaining the brown she had been born with.

Donning attire and a staff she normally wouldn’t have ever worn or used, she slipped into the night, sneaking through the nighttime of Limsa Lominsa.

Heading for one of the few places she called home.

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Prompt: “What is something they’re legitimately bad at?”

❅ ❅ ❅

Aria had been giving the portrait more than a passing glance and Aymeric was growing concerned. It wasn’t simply because of the fact that the painting was of their mutual friend (and he knows not how the artist managed to get Estinien of all people to stay still long enough for the portrait to be taken), but rather it was the way she was scrutinizing the object as a whole.

“Ia? Is aught amiss?” he finally asked.

The woman blinked, amethyst eyes going clouded for a split second as her concentration was broken before it re-centered itself towards him. She smiled without hesitation and shook her head.

“Nay, my love,” she answered. “I was merely lost in thought.”

Aymeric released a soft breath of relief as he approached the woman and wrapped his arms gently around him. She nestled herself comfortably within his embrace, leaning her frame in against his.

“And, pray tell, what those thoughts of yours are?”

At the question, Aria shifted her gaze away from his and the apple of her cheeks flushed to a bright shade of crimson. Her lips puckered to an embarrassed pout, as if she was sulking over the fact that she had been caught in a lie—though, she still managed to respond through gritted teeth.

“I was…admiring the skills…of the painter,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “I wish I am able to bring such images to a physical form…”

Aymeric stared at his lover in a dumbfounded manner before he released peals of laughter at the response. While half of it was merely relief that nothing was wrong—at the woman’s expense, of course; she was giving him the sharpest of eyes—he couldn’t help, but find her just adorable.

In apology, he squeezed her tighter in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of her head. 

“I am certain your creations are not as bad,” he attempted to encourage her.

Aria scowled. “If I was nigh 3 summers old perhaps. But right now, I would be a laughingstock. How embarrassing, for me to be unable to paint and be called a master artisan!”

Again, Aymeric couldn’t help but laugh in response. This time, Aria giggled with him.

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Day 5: Cuddling

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Characters: Azem/Sunna (WoL Amarout OC) x Glenr (G’raha Tia’s Ancient OC)

Short and Sweet Fluff


Glenr was sitting out on watch, looking up at the stars. The night sky was absolutely. The stars in the sky so dazzled like jewels on a dark velvet cloth.

He turned his head when he heard footsteps approach and smiled. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah…” Sunna said, yawning.  Glenr held back a chuckle. She looked like she was on the verge of sleep though. Sunna walked over to him and sat between his legs, leaning her back against his chest. “What were you thinking about?”

Glenr leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “I was just admiring the night sky.”

Savannah smiled. “It is beautiful isn’t it?” She took the blanket draped on Glenr’s shoulders and wrapped it working herself as well. He didn’t understand how someone so warm could get cool so easily. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulled her close. A hand rested on one of his as she smiled.

Glenr smiled when he noticed Sunna’s eyes were close and as she started drifting off. Perhaps she just wanted to be near him. It was a comforting thought to Glenr. He certainly liked it better when she was sleeping in his arms.

Sunna had started sticking closer to him, seeming to want more physical affection, which he was more than happy to give. He felt the same too. He wanted to shower her with all the love and affection he’s been holding back all this time. As much as he had tried to deny it, he’d fallen for her the first day they met. Now he was happier than he thought he could ever be.

He let her stay like through his watch and her watch which was supposed to be next. When Saga had come out to switch, he picked her up and carried the heavy-sleeper back to the tent they now shared. He laid down next to her and gently ran his hand through her hair.

He’d tease her in the morning about how she slept through her entire shift even though he could have easily just woken her up. It was too much fun to see her get flustered and pouty.

“I love you.” Glenr said softly and then kissed Sunna’s forehead before drifting off to sleep.

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Last Line 

Rules: post the last line you wrote from any WIP (and tag the same number of people as there are words).

“Is this all you got?” U’mayru hissed and pressed her ears back in preparation. She tightened the grip on the great sword, eased her balance with her tail - and charged. The ground sung under her firm steps. Bolts of crimson exploded out of her weapon, searching for the life force it wanted to inhale out of him.

So this is the first time in years I have shared even this little out of something I have written, so I am a bit nervous but even if it’s such a short little thing I hope you enjoyed it ♥ (also English is not my first language, I’m sorry if it is weirdly written)

Tagged by @faelune-home thank you so much! I can’t think of so many people to tag, but here is a few I would love to read more from @windupzenos, @ladyramora @kollapsar and @faeluria and anyone who wants to do it (really I mean it!) ✨

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WoLtober 2020

Day #5) Season of Change


Seasons - “Autumn”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Katsum held loosely to the reins as Soldier snorted and followed the dirt road through the East End forest. The crunch of the fallen leaves under the stallion’s hooves and the chill to the air spoke of the coming harvest season. Even here in the Fringes, the arrival of autumn was clear. The trees gave way to a bridge that stretched over where the river cut through, a beautiful waterfall rushing down the side of the cliff. Soldier’s hoofbeats echoed through the wooden planks as he stepped onto it, the gentle sway of his steps giving Katsum a peace of mind. For a moment, she closed her eyes and for just a moment, she could almost believe she was back home, on the island she grew up on.

The rushing of the waterfall became the sound of the ocean waves beating on the rocky shore, the chill of the air carrying the scent of the sea salt on it. The sun shone through the branches and red and yellow colored leaves, shining down on her face. The forests of Esk Dran had been much the same in the days of the harvest, the thick forests and bogs shifting with the arriving cold as the leaves changed and fell before the snows came. Though she was born during the autumn season, as a child, she disliked the fall when the warmth of the summer sun grew cold and the waters around the isle became like ice. The children of the isle, highborn and low born alike, had more free time to frolic through the wilderness and swim in the sea, so the arrival of autumn meant those days had come to an end that year, which she had always dreaded. Those days were far behind her now though, and after her many travels through Eorzea and beyond, there were some places where the summer heat was nearly unbearable, especially Gyr Abania. Now, she had come to appreciate the slight chill to the air mingling with the warm wind, a perfect balance between the two.

Katsum. pulled at the reins when they reached the center of the bridge and Soldier slowed to a halt. The warrior opened her eyes again and looked up to the light blue sky that peeked through the trees. The miqo’te smiled sadly. How far she had come from her days as a young heiress. It seemed so very long ago, and though she truly missed her home dearly, she had found a new home now to love and build a life in. She had found a soul to love and grow old with too, one day to make a family with as well. Thinking back now and all that she’d gone through as a young girl, she could have never seen this happiness hiding behind the darkness that plagued her. She could only thank Heaven and the Savior for all she had now.

Her horse nickered lightly, turning his head slightly to gaze back at her with one eye and she smiled at him, “Sorry, Soldier, was just thinking. Come on, let’s head home. I’m sure Aymeric will be waiting for us.”

The dark-colored stallion started forward again and Katsum nudged him into a trot. On they continued through down the dirt path, the autumn breeze blowing through the trees and leaves.

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I’m gonna be using this space later as a table of contents for two mini-series that I plan to continue. I’ll be reposting and revising the original entries (which were posted for the FFxivWrite challenge), adding new content to those existing chapters. Afterward, I’ll be adding brand-new entries that carry the series forward!

I plan to do this with both Grey and Rylee for the time being. But if there’s ever any interest in finding out what happens to anyone else’s mini-story, let me know!

Happy writing & reading!

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WoLtober 2020

Day #4) Keep Fighting


Scions - Taken from 2019 WoLtober prompt list

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The quiet tunnels echo with the clicks and clanks of her armor and chainmail as Katsum ran through the winding catacombs. Her heart hammered against her chest and her lungs burned with each breath she took, yet she refused to slow down. The sounds of fighting had long since died away, swallowed by the seemingly endless maze of sand and rock, reminding her that she was once again utterly alone. The thought pierced her like a knife in her soul, her stoic expression breaking as she bit her lip and her ears fell back again her head. Yet still, the Miqo’te woman ran, shaking her head as she sped up.

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Day 3: Holding Hands

Crystal Exarch x WoL

Fluff, Angst

Shadowbringers Spoilers


“Raha!” Savannah called out. The Crystal Exarch turned towards the sound of his beloved’s voice. It was still odd to hear someone call him by his true name, but he’d have it no other way.

“Welcome back, Savann-“ Immediately he was pulled into a hug by her, squishing him into her chest, the rest of his sentence becoming muffled. He pulled his head away, face red. “Savannah please, your chest.” He said, though it didn’t upset him.

“I’m home!” She grinned. Something G’raha’s heart aches upon hearing that. To call this home was wrong. The Source was her home. Not here, even though he knew what she meant. He was here and therefore this was home. But to deny that would only upset her and he didn’t want to have that conversation in the middle of the Crystarium.

“Welcome home.” He finally said, closing his eyes with a soft smile.
“Are you free? I was thinking about taking a walk around Lakeland.”
“Is something going on there.”

Savannah grinned widely. “Not really. I just wanted to take a private walk with you.” G’raha blushed. She knew just how to get him to do what she wanted.

“V-Very well,” he couldn’t help but stammer. She took his crystal hand in hers and started pulling him along. He smiled forlornly at their interlocked fingers. He wished he could feel the warmth of her skin and fingers as it curled around his crystal hand. It barely registered through the Crystal.

“Raha, what’s wrong?” Savannah said, stopping. The were just outside the entrance to the Crystarium when she must have noticed.

“Oh, nothing, my love.“ She narrowed her eyes at him and took her hand away to cross her arms.

“Tell me.” She demanded. “You promised not to hide things from me or lie anymore.”

G’raha looked away from her. Though he did promise that, there were still things he couldn’t bear to mention sometimes, mostly involving his crystal form. It was inconvenient enough that he couldn’t leave much beyond Lakeland. Making her invite to Il Mheg all the more painful for her. He had already accepted his fate this way, but Savannah still was getting used to it. He never told her of the possibilities of how he might not even be able to leave the Crystarium itself one day. Or even leave the Tower. He was avoiding those conversations to spare her more pain. However if she brought it up herself, he promised not to lied about it. “It… wasn’t so much trying to hide it from you.”

He was surprised to feel the gentle touch of her hands cupping his cheeks to turn him to look at her. “Raha, you can trust me.” She smiled, softly, her eyes echoing her words.

G’raha sighed. “I know, my love. I just didn’t want to disrupt your cheerful mood or ruin our spontaneous outing.” She caressed his cheek with her thumbs, beckoning him to continue. “The Crystal of my body does not feel you the same way. So I can’t feel your skin or the warmth of hands. It’s sort of muddled.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier!” She quickly switched to his other side.

“I just enjoy having you near.” He smiled. He took her hands to remove from his cheeks and held them tightly as he kissed them.

Savannah thought back to their nights of pleasure. It hadn’t really registered before that he often used his left hand to touch her more than his crystal hand. He used to be right-handed. She wondered if that had changed long after the crystallization.

Her heart ached. She wondered what would happen if the crystal grew. Would it over take his other hand as well? Would he no longer be able to feel her as she was one day? She didn’t want that to happen, but how was she supposed to stop it-

G’raha leaned up to kiss her lips softly. “Do not worry, Savannah. It truly is just a blessing to have you at my side.” Her thoughts were obvious to him. They almost always were. He intertwined the fingers of her hand and his non-crystal one and kissed the back of it. “Let us continue, shall we?”

Savannah smiled. She took a breath to try to let go of her anxieties. She needed to try and live in the now and enjoy the time they had now.

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Day 2: First Date

G’raha Tia x WoL

Fluff, Dating, Confessions

Takes place in ARR Crystal Tower Raids

I try to write “slow-burn” but I can’t get past a single post with it. I hope you enjoy.


What were his first impressions of the Warrior of Light?
Naive. Too trusting. A bit air headed. Sometimes she’d just get so lost in thought in the most random of places and times.
She’s also a Viera and practically the opposite of what he heard Viera’s were like. Mature. Distant. A no-nonsense type.
The Warrior of Light was kind, a little more extroverted, and a powerhouse on the battlefield.
She also held a grudge. She was avoiding him now, even though she agreed to be part of NOAH.
To be fair, his first impression… left much to be desired. He could admit he made a mistake but how could he make up for it if she didn’t at least talk to him! G’raha stood up. He had to make it right.

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The Story So Far —
Estranged from his mother as a boy, Grey would later come to learn the truth of his family history. His grandfather, the late Vega Barlowe, was the kingpin of an influential and dangerous organization. A gang with a long and bloodied trail—and now inherited by Barlowe’s chosen, though reluctant, successor.


In this world, the only king was money.

Money talked. The only voice anyone listened to. Hold enough and you held the reins over a black network and tangled, ugly world. You controlled the streets and the businesses — who lived until tomorrow and who wouldn’t.

Luxuriance was the fragrance of summer lemons and cigarettes. The occasional tink! of cutlery and the burble of wine glasses filled, then filled again. Dim lighting and immaculate tablecloths, with cushioned chairs and bodyguards posted at the ornate door and between every looming window. The view may have once been beautiful; a cityscape that sparkled and shimmered, like its own night sky. But whenever my eyes wandered to the spotless glass panes… I recognized my cage.

I was a trapped bird.

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