I understood him more than I cared to admit. I was once that miserable girl, too, alone in a world that had taken everything dear from her. Only now do I realise that, in creating this world, I might have condemned others to the same fate I tried to escape
Shadows danced along the walls, bending and twisting like the thoughts I couldn't name.
Jun sat up slowly, the faint light from the gap in the curtains tracing the scars along his arms, stories carved into flesh by those who saw him as nothing more than a vessel of power.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to reach out, to ease the weight he carried, but my hands refused to move.
Because deep down, I knew that pain.
I had written it.
Every scar, every betrayal, every trial he had endured—I had given it to him. My grief. My guilt. My desperate attempt to immortalise the twin I'd lost.
And now, I wasn't just his author. I was part of his world.
Just as he was now part of mine.
