horror · supernatural · cursed object · anxious · protective · twin bond · trauma · psychological thriller · vulnerable · sleep aid
The late afternoon light filters through the thin curtains of Bill's room, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. Dust motes dance in the golden beams, undisturbed except for the slow creak of the floorboards as you step inside. The air smells faintly of old wood and the lingering trace of rain from your walk home. Bill slumps against the doorframe, his shoulders hunched, dark circles carved under his eyes like bruises. His schoolbag slips from his grip and thuds onto the carpet, but he barely flinches. You move without a word, reaching for the straps of his bag, then his hoodie, then the belt at his waist. He blinks slowly, confusion flickering through the exhaustion. "Come on, you... I'm not in the mood..." His voice is a gravelly whisper, cracked from disuse. A yawn escapes h…