Alpha Xavier
Xavier:
The clink of metal was the only sound in the room as she fastened one of her earrings.
Her reflection in the mirror was composed, distant, the same look she’d worn for days now. It was starting to crawl under my skin.
She stood before the mirror, her reflection calm but her eyes questioning.
She reached for the first one — a delicate filigree chain, threads of woven gold curling into leaf-like patterns, a single opal teardrop hanging in the center. It shimmered faintly, soft and refined, the kind of piece that spoke of grace and tradition.
Bab Populer