Feb 15, 2017
@twilightbound | ★
❝ midna. ❞ she whispers, with all the hush of a passing zephyr, voice aquiver with wariness (and hope). ❝ you are...you are...? ❞
a dream, she tells herself, this is a dream. a memory of what once was and what will never again be. yet as she appraises glimmering pools of red and brushes gloved fingers against satin cloth in raw disbelief, she cannot help but marvel at how wonderfully realistic it all feels.