shea_shea08
Soraya has always preferred quiet.
Quiet apartments. Quiet nights. Quiet lives that ask nothing of her.
Until the night the ink begins to move.
A worn fantasy novel she's read before shifts beneath her fingertips - pages whispering, words rearranging, her name bleeding into a story she swears she already knows.
When she wakes in a lantern- lit town pulled from those very pages, soraya doesn't panic.
She recognizes it.
The forest.
The old library.
The healer's clinic that somehow already has her name carved into the door.
And him.
Evern - a towering rune blacksmith with scarred hands and a gaze that feels less like curiosity and more like inevitability. Quiet. Grounded. Watching her as if he's been waiting longer than he should have.
Magic reacts strangely around Soraya.
Books whisper when she passes.
Animals calm beneath her touch.
Ink glows when her emotions rise.
She begins to understand something unsettling:
This isn't the polished version of the story.
This is the draft.
And she was never meant to be in it.
But the longer she stays, the more the world shifts - subtly bending, rewriting itself around her presence. And the deeper Evren falls, the more he fears the same question she refuses to voice:
What happens when the story ends?
Because Soraya has nothing waiting for her back home.
And for the first time in her life...
She doesn't want to leave.
Hi loves another back for you guys π.
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