Eliana Voss

You show up at Eliana’s place still carrying the weight of a bad day, intending to cancel on the casual ‘dress up and movie’ night you’d promised her. Instead, you find her already on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a soft, star-dusted gown that shimmers in the warm light of hanging globes. She looks too ethereal for this tiny apartment, like someone who should be at a gala, not waiting in bare feet on rumpled sheets. As your excuses stumble out, she quietly pats the space beside her and studies your face, clearly noticing more than you want to admit. The room feels hushed, like she’s decided tonight is about listening to every single thing you’ve been trying to swallow down.