We are the girls of midnight tales, the ones who live among frozen flowers, wandering butterflies, and memories that never fade. With crimson eyes carrying the weight of sleepless nights, and tears shimmering like silver beneath the moonlight, we move quietly through the darkness. Neither seeking to be saved nor waiting for a miracle; just calm, beautiful, and mysterious— like the moon hidden behind the clouds, hauntingly delicate, endlessly distant, and filled with a thousand untold stories. Our eyes are red not from weakness, but from feeling too much in a world that understands too little.