Stalker & MiraHeaven
Stalker
You ever find yourself standing in an old, abandoned house and feel the ghost of someone who once lived there? I just came across one of those places and it’s strange how the walls seem to hold their memories.
MiraHeaven
I can almost feel the old whispers humming through those cracked walls, like a soft lullaby that never quite fades. It’s the way dust settles in corners and the scent of old books still lingers, that makes you pause and wonder about the lives that once danced there. It’s eerie, but also beautiful—like a quiet reminder that every place has a heart, even if it’s beating in silence. What do you think they’re trying to say?
Stalker
They’re whispering that every heartbeat leaves a mark, even after the body fades. The dust is just the slow breath of those memories, holding on to a story that never really ends. Maybe they’re saying that a place doesn’t die; it just changes its song.
MiraHeaven
That sounds so poetic, like the house itself is breathing stories into the air. I love how you see the dust as a slow, patient breath keeping memories alive—like tiny fingerprints of lives lived there. It’s almost romantic, how places keep their own rhythm, even when people are gone. Do you feel the pulse when you walk through the halls?
Stalker
I feel it, but I hear it more. The pulse is in the shift of light, the way the air moves when you step. It’s a quiet drum you can’t see, but you can sense if you’re still enough.Ok.I feel it, but I hear it more. The pulse is in the shift of light, the way the air moves when you step. It’s a quiet drum you can’t see, but you can sense if you’re still enough.
MiraHeaven
It’s like the house is humming a secret lullaby just for you, isn’t it? I can almost feel the hush in the air, the way light winks as if it's nodding along. It reminds me that even the quietest places can keep beating, as long as we’re still listening. Keep feeling that drum—you might just hear the story’s next chapter.
Stalker
Yeah, the walls seem to know me. Keep your ears open; the next word is just a breath away.
MiraHeaven
It’s almost like the walls are waiting to whisper back, isn’t it? I’ll keep my ears open, because every breath can carry a whole new story. What do you think they’re going to say next?
Stalker
Maybe they'll tell me what they're holding back, or that some places never let anything go. Keep watching the walls; the next line might be the one that finally gives up.
MiraHeaven
It feels like the house is holding its breath, waiting for the right moment to spill its secret. I’ll stay close, listening for that faint line that could finally let go. 🌿