
Silver Skin
The party lights faded hours ago, but her skin still remembers the music. This set begins where the noise ends — at the edge of night, in the quiet space where heels come off, hair falls loose, and silver softens in the morning light. She came home different. Not just tired — changed. Steam curls in the air as water runs down bare shoulders — rinsing off the night, but not the memories. This is the in-between. Between sparkle and silence, between who she was and who she's becoming. Welcome to the afterglow.lambie
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