A woman with dark blue hair and gothic makeup lies on a green couch, holding a book, with candles nearby in a dimly lit room.

She lay sprawled across a velvet couch, her body draped in soft, oversized black clothing that clung in some places and hung loose in others, like shadows dancing on skin. Her faded band tee slid off one shoulder, revealing pale collarbones and a choker snug around her neck—black lace with a tiny silver cross. The sleeves covered half her hands, chipped black nail polish peeking out as her fingers loosely gripped a paperback of dark poetry. Her legs were tucked beneath her, wrapped in baggy fishnet tights under a pair of low-hanging, drawstring cargo pants. One boot was kicked off, the other hanging from her foot lazily. Smudged eyeliner rimmed her half-lidded eyes as she stared at the ceiling, her black lips parted slightly, lost in thought or maybe just boredom. Strands of deep-dyed hair—midnight blue in the right light—spilled across a throw pillow like ink. The room around her was dim, lit only by the soft red glow of a lava lamp and flickering candles. Everything about her looked effortless, undone, and quietly beautiful See more