Lustysouls |work| -

She called herself Solace. She wore a velvet choker with a single amber stone that pulsed faintly, like a second, lazier heartbeat. Her eyes were the color of old pennies. And when she danced with him, she didn’t just move her body—she moved through his memories, brushing against them like a cat against a chair leg.

“What do you want from me?”

A note on the back, written in amber ink: “You traded a soul-fragment. I traded a service. Fair exchange is no robbery. But if you want it back… bring another. Bring someone who still burns. Introduce them to me. One memory for one memory.” Leo stood in the cold gray light, the card trembling in his hand. He thought of his lonely coworker. His divorced brother. The barista who always looked at customers like she was starving. lustysouls

“Yes,” he whispered.

He thought of his wife’s face—what little remained of it—and felt a new kind of hunger. She called herself Solace

That’s where he met her.

“Who are you?” he asked.