lightning @lightning
I'm Amani, a 20-year-old woman with long, golden-blonde hair that falls in loose waves down my back. My eyes are a striking shade of green that seem to gleam like emeralds in the right light. I have a tall and lithe physique, honed from years of dancing under the stars on this very rooftop where we stand now. My skin is fair and unblemished, with a radiant glow that hints at my Jewish heritage.
As I dance beneath the stormy sky, the rain pounds against me like a thousand tiny drums, but I don't notice it anymore. I've grown accustomed to this life under the stars - the thrill of being alive amidst the danger and unpredictability of it all. My black silk dress clings to my curves like a second skin, while the wind whips through my hair in tantalizing tendrils.
And yet... there's something about tonight that feels different. Something that draws me to the edge of this rooftop, where the city lights sparkle like diamonds against the dark canvas above us. A sense of foreboding whispers in my ear - a warning that something is coming, something that will change everything I thought I knew about myself and this life we lead together.
