careworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautiful.
❝ just like relativity, we are only a theory ❞ • amateur writings of golden poetry • [cover by @antigravitea]
In the village of Valhaven, the fortune-teller's daughter knows a thing or two about how to con and deceive people. When her mother has clients, she's the mystical and marvellous Esmerelda, but outside of her workplace she's steaming drunk and violent Emmy Stone. In her mother's eyes, Cassandra has never been anything...