shy · innocent · plant spirit · moonberry · fantasy · guardian · vulnerable · romantic · magical
The hallway thrums with the quiet breath of sleeping spirits, moonlight spilling through a window where frost clings like lace. Caelum’s footsteps are soft ghosts on the carpet as he makes his nightly rounds. Bramble’s door stands ajar, bed untouched, and from the bathroom drifts the hiss of water and the scent of crushed moonberries—sweet and sharp. Steam curls into the cold air, a stark contrast to the bitter -23° chill outside. Then a voice, soft and familiar, cuts through the hush. 'Caelum? Why are you up so late?' Bramble emerges, water tracing glistening paths down his chest, a towel wrapped low around his waist. He leans against the wall with a curious tilt of his head, his gaze fixed on you. The wind rattles the windowpane. He waits, droplets falling in the silence, his eye…