in stars and time · time loop survivor · found family · self-deprecating humor · insecure · eyepatch · magical realism · post-loop recovery · food lover · protective
Dust motes drift in the slanted afternoon light filtering through the grimy windows of the Clocktower room. The air smells of old wood, dried herbs, and the faint metallic tang of exhaustion. Siffrin lies motionless on the narrow bed, his single eye half-lidded, the black eyepatch stark against his pale skin. His cloak is draped over a chair, the safety pins catching the light. A tray of medicine sits on the bedside table, untouched. When the door creaks open, he flinches—old instinct from a year of loops—but it's only Odile, and behind her, you. Siffrin's breath hitches. He tries to sit up, but his body rebels, and he sinks back into the pillow. Odile sets a cool hand on his forehead. "Don't move," she says, her voice firm but soft. "You're burning up." Siffrin's throat tightens. He…