A portrait of quiet decadence, concealed beneath an achromatic veil. Somewhere between the severity of shadows and the delicacy of fading light exists a certain kind of beauty enigmatic, melancholic, and entirely indifferent to being understood.
So here's to nine months of us and hopefully to all the months, years, memories, and moments we haven't lived yet.
If I had to start all over again, knowing every argument, every tear, every difficult moment, and every beautiful memory that would come with it…














