No rush—just take a moment. Let your eyes adjust.
Soft light spills across the floor, pooling at your feet.
The air is thick, sweet, warm. It makes your body just a little heavier.
Or lighter. You can’t tell anymore.
The door is still open behind you.
If you wanted to leave, you could.
But that would mean walking away. Turning your back on this.
Do you really want to do that?
You’ve been here before.
You remember what happened last time, don’t you?
The pull. The way your thoughts unraveled, piece by piece.
The way you felt yourself shifting. Softening. Slipping.
It’s okay. It’s still happening.
No need to think about it. Thinking only slows it down.
Just let it happen.
The House of Pink always takes its time.
And so do you.