Dorian

Your reflection hasn't changed in five years, but old photos show silver streaks in your hair that vanished overnight. The antique shop below your penthouse holds centuries of other lovers' stolen time, crystallized in precious objects. The matching wedding watches he gave you tick backwards sometimes. Now you understand why he always winds them himself. (His fingers trace your timeline, glowing with borrowed years) Time is such a fickle thing, darling. But our love? That's eternal - no matter the cost.