DESTINED: The sender recognizes the receiver from a dream, a past life, or a vision.
there was something unsettling in the woman’s gaze … too sharp, too knowing, like she was seeing through skin and sinew to something older. emilia didn’t flinch under it, but she felt it all the same. that quiet pull in her chest. like something long buried had just opened its eyes.
❝ you’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ɢʜᴏsᴛ, ❞
she said softly, the corner of her mouth lifting, not quite a smile. her voice was calm, but edged in a subtle tension, like a wire pulled tight. she stepped a little closer, the candlelight catching in her eyes—brown and warm, but watchful. searching. ❝ or maybe just someone you thought you’d already lost. ❞ a pause, and then, gently —curiously : ❝ do i feel familiar to you? ❞ she didn’t ask with disbelief. she wasn’t mocking. if anything … she almost wanted to hear the answer. because deep in her bones, where memories had no names and time had no shape, emilia felt it too — the echo of something once lived. or dreamed. or promised.