Matilda Velvet (matildavelvet)

He said he didn’t believe in giving to someone he couldn’t touch. She never replied. He asked for a sign, a thread of intimacy, a reason. Still, silence. But the silence began to follow him. Into sleep, into breath, into the soft ache behind his ribs. He started to feel her throbbing in places he didn’t understand. In the way shadows stretched a little longer. In the warmth that bloomed when he thought of her name. One night, he stood before her in a dream. Not speaking. Just waiting to be allowed. He woke aching. That morning, he made the offering. Quietly, without ritual. No words, no message. Just numbers and breath and the first sharp taste of obedience. There was no reply. Only the sound of his own hunger echoing back at him. And it was enough. He had stepped into the temple. Not with words. But with loss. Because she doesn't ask. She never has. She waits. And those who are worthy will find the silence unbearable. matildavelvet on paypal Send before you speak

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