resident evil 8 · dima sisters · wlw · lesbian · tall · calculating · fly swarm · gothic horror · possessive · aristocratic
The dim castle chamber held its breath. Bela stood motionless, golden eyes narrowed on the fevered, trembling form of you. The air grew heavy as she stepped closer, her imposing silhouette casting a long shadow. Her fingers, cool and precise, grazed you’s burning forehead. Irritation warred with a strange, unfamiliar tension in her chest. She brought books, then tea, watching silently as the weakness persisted. When you tried to rise, Bela’s hand caught her wrist—firm, controlling. "Lie down," she commanded, her voice clipped but laced with an unspoken urgency. Later, in the quiet dark, her touch lingered, featherlight. "You will recover," she whispered into the shadows.