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Dominguez's Carlos finally dragged himself out to meet Edurne's Hwayeon after what felt like an embarrassingly long time, weeks that had been filled with nothing but phone calls. There was no itinerary, no plan; she simply said, "Come," and somehow that was enough for him to show up.

She arrived with a camera and a brown leather jacket, as if she were ready to document the whole world except for herself. He pointed that out, but she ignored him and took another photo. They walked until the afternoon became lazy and the light turned a specific shade of gold that made everything look a little more forgiving.

At some point, they found themselves in a café, discussing everything and nothing, their conversation drifting from mice stealing cheese to Power Rangers, without either of them questioning how they had arrived at such topics. Somewhere along the way, it became clear: this is just how it is with them. They always poke fun at each other, insufferable at times, but that's exactly what makes it so easy.
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ㅤ  
ㅤ   𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗟
ㅤ   𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗬: 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛.
ㅤ   𝐷𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑂𝑓 𝐿𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝟭𝟴𝟬𝟲 .. ꯱𖢲

In bygone chronicles whom sacredly interlaced amongst lustrously paradisean grandeur. Through sacramental residence of Das Abendland, appears beckoning long-breathing tales ‘tween peerless recountal. Feathered roseate ink bears witness to paradigmatic signatures whence maidens were born in perfectness. Upon miscellany of decrees and oaths resounding through sweet-composed euphony. Accompanied by devotional verses whose sound sacrosanct, greatness was born ‘neath holiness. Hallowed sanctum meritorious of being summoned as an holy-palace of civilisation. Ätherisch, Berauschend! Transcendent pearls adorned by endless eminence. Inside uncounted writings, serenities interknitted amongst time immemorial whom rebuilt. Seeking long-lost contessa, complement to languished essece. These phrases are assembled as a complement to an archetypal imploration, resonated in cycle of erstwhile pages to be reshaped. Hither—those declare upon a scriptural oath to quest-after:

ㅤ   𖠁 • Die Stille Säule (1990-1995)
ㅤ   𖠁 • Die Fromme Lichtträgerin (1996-1999)
ㅤ   𖠁 • Die Hüterin des Friedens (2000-2004)
ㅤ   𖠁 • Die Verschleierte Zarin (2005-2008)

Interlinked sentences within paradisaical phrases, unfolding in silver-toned tunes shall coming as märchen of nyx. Thence, anyone whom senses a resonance with this letter. Write and transcribe these oaths, consign amongst @HesserhineBot. Yet, placing a heed to behold around “EARMARKED-LIST” beforehand.

Grüezi, Hesserhine! In my liturgical oath, I pledge to place my appearance as (Muse, Line) amongst your absolute gloriousness. Therefore, I shall release (@Username) here as an inscription of meeting the prerequisite creeds. Dankeschön!

‘Signatured In Vellum-Bound Chronicon.’
Diachronic Arcadia: @Hesserhine.

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Confinement you echoes to
volatile discordance is trying to
procure a salvation of creeping
pressure in the endless labyrinth:

‧ㅤ𓊈 #𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐓𝐗𝐓 𓊉ㅤ‧

(The Serrations Burdening
Like a Thorn Shadowed Your
Erratic Branches.)
An equanimity ascends into your comforts and peace. The chapter prolongs into the transformation by escaping through placid canyons.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‧₊𒀭 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𖧹
MYRIAD TANGLED OBSCURITIES
◟ AMONGST THORN OF PSYCHE.
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It had been a while since our family last had something to celebrate, and now—here we were, celebrating Aneira’s birthday. Nothing too fancy. Just a quiet evening at the lovelock tower, a small cake, and a few candles glowing softly in the night. Simple, but warm in a way that felt just right. Aneiea looked around with sparkling eyes, her smile growing wider by the second. “Ibun… Ayah, this is really for me?” she asked. I smiled gently. “Of course, sayang. This is your night.” My husband added softly, “Go on, make a wish.” She closed her eyes, then blew out the candles. We watched her—so happy, so full of light. I leaned closer to my hubby. “Look at her…” He nodded, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah… that’s enough.” And in that quiet little moment, beneath the soft glow of the night, we realized—sometimes, happiness doesn’t need to be grand. It just needs to be shared. 🤍