arindalee
A Stolen Heart.
Blush of Anticipation.
Recharging Moments.
Whispers of the Afternoon Bridge.
Whispers of the Heart.
Silent Echoes.
Whispers in the Gallery.
Under the cerulean sky, we stood in the very field where our story began.
I ended up saying thank you again.
My own peculiar peace amidst the chaos.
And maybe, just maybe, our incomplete sentences, a testament to the beauty of brokenness.
Embrace of rebellion.
Unfinished story❤️
But deep down, I knew—I was already home.
A secret and a crazy guy.
The last.
I want to go home?