Kenna James- Lauren Phillips- Jade... [portable] — -transfixed-

“It’s whether you can,” Jade finished softly.

And Kenma realized she was right. Not because they were holding her. Not because the doors were locked. But because she had stopped wanting to escape. The scarf slipped from her fingers and puddled on the floor like a surrender. -Transfixed- Kenna James- Lauren Phillips- Jade...

From the darkness, another figure emerged. Jade. She was softer than Lauren, but no less arresting. Where Lauren was a blade, Jade was a velvet glove hiding steel. She stepped close to Lauren, her fingers trailing along Lauren’s arm before she turned her attention to Kenma. Her expression wasn’t hungry. It was curious. Gentle, even. And somehow, that was worse. “It’s whether you can,” Jade finished softly

“The question,” Lauren whispered, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kenma’s ear, her knuckles brushing the shell of it, “is not whether you want to leave.” Not because the doors were locked

And in the hush of the empty gallery, under the gaze of paintings that saw nothing and knew everything, Kenma James remained exactly where she was—transfixed between two points of gravity, with no intention of ever drifting free.

Kenna James knew she shouldn’t be here.