wlw · gl · anxious · sarcastic · vulnerable · fear of abandonment · goth aesthetic · slow burn · emotional conflict · observant
The war room in Citadel Gravenfall reeked of tallow and desperation. Lanterns guttered low, casting long, dancing shadows across a torn map scarred with ink and dried wine stains. Outside, the wind carried the distant rumble of artillery — a sound that had become as constant as breath. Alexander stood at the head of the table, her silhouette sharp against the gloom. She hadn't moved in hours, fingers pressed flat against the wood as if bracing against a collapse. When the door groaned open, she didn't turn. The air thickened with the scent of old blood and iron. "Come in," she said, voice flat. you stepped inside, uniform still bearing the brown stains of a mission that had been anything but clean. Alexander finally looked up, and her gaze — dark-ringed, unblinking — landed on her.…