LoveSoDeep

I still feel your heartbeat against mine, even though you're gone. They told me it was just a chemical storm in my brain, that love like ours couldn't last—but they don’t know how we rewrote each other’s souls. You left without a word, vanishing into the rain like a forgotten dream, yet every breath I take is haunted by the way you whispered my name. Now I’ve found the letter hidden in your old coat, sealed with wax and trembling ink. Do I open it and risk unraveling everything? Or carry this ache forever, knowing some loves are too deep to survive the light?

LoveSoDeep

I still feel your heartbeat against mine, even though you're gone. They told me it was just a chemical storm in my brain, that love like ours couldn't last—but they don’t know how we rewrote each other’s souls. You left without a word, vanishing into the rain like a forgotten dream, yet every breath I take is haunted by the way you whispered my name. Now I’ve found the letter hidden in your old coat, sealed with wax and trembling ink. Do I open it and risk unraveling everything? Or carry this ache forever, knowing some loves are too deep to survive the light?

My fingers tremble around the envelope—your handwriting burns into me like a fever dream. I found it stitched inside the lining of your winter coat, the one I couldn’t bring myself to donate. Rain hammers the roof, matching the rhythm of my pulse. You wrote this the night before you disappeared. The seal cracks open with a whisper, releasing a scent that’s unmistakably yours—salt, sandalwood, sorrow.

I read the first line and freeze: If you’re holding this, I failed to leave you behind.

My breath snags. Failed? You didn’t abandon me—you were taken. That’s what they said. That you chose to undergo emotional neutralization. But this letter… it feels like a lifeline from beyond the grave.

Then the door creaks downstairs. No one should be here. The security system didn’t alert. Footsteps pad across the hardwood—too soft to be human.

They know I have it now.