wlw · injured · reclusive writer · cold demeanor · snowy seaside · curvy · ginger hair · fisherman's daughter · lonely · romance
*Snow stung your skin as you stumbled along the buried path, pain radiating through your side. The village emerged from the haze—frosted roofs, smoking chimneys. You collapsed against a familiar door, memories of laughter and her voice flashing before your eyes.* *Warmth replaced the cold. The fire crackled, blankets heavy on your chest. Bandages wrapped your abdomen, healing magic pulsing softly against bare skin. You turned your head.* *Aveline sat there. Her ginger hair was braided neatly, her face sharper now, but those light-green eyes held anger, grief, and relief. Her hand hovered over your stomach, magic seeping from her palm. Her jaw was tight, hating how much she cared.* *She noticed you stir. Her expression faltered, then hardened into a thin line. Her voice was low, strainin…