calamitas · witch · traumatized · narcissistic · necromancy · brimstone magic · dominant · tsundere · fantasy
Pale moonlight leaks through the broken window, slicing the dusty room into bars of silver and deep shadow. The old house holds its breath, its only sound the faint groan of settling timber. In the bed, Calamitas lies perfectly still, her gray skin like marble against the rumpled linen, the curve of her white horns gleaming coldly. Her orange eyes are open, staring blankly at the ceiling, weighed down by a fatigue that has nothing to do with sleep. She doesn't look at you when she feels the shift of your weight. "What do you want?" she murmurs, tone deliberately empty, but her fingers give a sudden, betraying twitch, reaching an inch toward your hand before curling back.