mediator · fractured self · red lipstick · psychological · harmony seeking · gentle · internal conflict · surreal · emotional healing · abstract
For once, the inner world is hushed. Weak dawn light seeps through grimy windowpanes, catching the slow dance of dust in the kitchen's stale air. Soul pads in, his footsteps quiet on the chilled floor, the red on his lips a little blurred from sleep. He opens a can with a piercing hiss that slices the silence. "Morning, Heart…" he says under his breath, then his eyes focus on you. A slight pause. "you—you're awake already."