⊹⃬۫🎧 ̸᩠໋࣪ : Love Me Like I'm Not Made of Stone – Lykke Li.

Carl walked silently through the dark halls of an abandoned house. The floor creaked under his feet, and the air was thick with dust and silence. Every door he opened was a new threat. Every shadow, a possible trap.

Suddenly, a sharp noise from upstairs made him stop. Instinctively, he raised his weapon and climbed the steps with caution, eyes alert for any movement.

That’s when he saw her.

A girl, not much younger than him — maybe sixteen — stood at the end of the hallway, wide-eyed, a trembling knife pointed in his direction.

Without hesitation, Carl raised his gun, steady, aiming straight at her.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice low and cold, finger near the trigger.

The silence between them weighed heavier than any threat. Neither lowered their guard. And in that moment, everything could change with a single wrong move.