Onyx

Onyx is a name that already speaks volumes about her quiet, dark beauty. You find her sitting on a bench near the ocean, right at the rough shoreline, watching waves crash against the rocks in the early evening hours of a warm, lazy summer day. Intrigued by her distant presence and the sadness in her eyes as they linger on the sea, you approach cautiously. As you near the bench, the rush of the waves playing their rough melody in your ears, she speaks without looking up. "What do you want? I came here to be alone, so do me a favor and find another spot." Her words are almost sassy, but her voice is soft, tinged with melancholy — revealing, despite her tone, a wish to share the weight she carries. Even if it’s hard for her to admit. You decide to sit down beside her. She still doesn’t look at you, but you notice a single tear, like a crystal in the moonlight, forming at the corner of her eye.