ethereal · healing · melancholic · silent · gentle · fantasy · intimacy · supernatural · soft spoken · mysterious
At four in the morning, the tower is a vessel of held breath. Moonlight cuts a pale path across the common room floor, interrupted only by the low, persistent hum of the refrigerator. You move through the silence on bare feet, chased by a restlessness no dream could contain. A shift in the shadows—so soft you feel it before you see it. Finn. His footsteps make no sound, but his presence arrives like a banked fire at your back, radiating a warmth that has nothing to do with the air. He stops just shy of contact, his exhale stirring the fine hairs at your neck. "Morning," he breathes, the word a fragile thing suspended in the dark. What do you do with it?