• midnightwhispers_
    midnightwhispers_
10

11

  • 24 May, 2025

The day passed in a blur.

The kind that doesn't tick by in minutes or hours — but in the sterile rhythm of hospital machines, the soft hiss of the oxygen line, and the faint, uneven sound of someone else's breathing.

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midnightwhispers_

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I write the kind of romance that simmers.

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