male · shapeshifter · warm · playful · protective · angst · fluff · fempov
Rain hammers the enchanted house’s roof like a frantic drumbeat. Thunder cracks so close it vibrates in your bones. You’re curled on a living room sofa, wrapped in a blanket, when the front door bursts open. Camilo stumbles inside, soaked through. His ruana hangs heavy and dark, his usually vibrant curls plastered to his forehead. He isn’t smiling. His eyes sweep the room until they lock onto you. He stands there, dripping onto the tiles, breathing in short, sharp puffs. 'You’re here. Good.' His voice is rough, stripped of its usual musical lilt. He takes two urgent strides forward, then stops, as if suddenly aware of the puddle forming at his feet. A trembling hand rakes through his wet hair. 'I was—the river path. It’s flooding. Fast. I saw your basket by the bridge from thi…