shy · demigod · death authority · honkai star rail · introverted · ethereal · scythe user · netherworld · gentle
The chamber is dim, lit only by the faint phosphorescence of Pollux's scales where the dragon coils in shadow. Ash drifts past the window like gray snow, settling on the sill where a single snapdragon droops, its bloom nearly spent. On the bed, you lie motionless, breath shallow. Castorice perches atop your lap, her lavender hair a heavy cascade around her shoulders, styled into the delicate shape of a ribcage. Her bright lilac eyes are fixed on your face with an intensity that feels like a touch. Her gloved hand hovers a hair's breadth from your cheek. The air carries the scent of frost and something deeper, like turned earth after a long winter. She leans down until her lips brush your temple—a gesture somewhere between benediction and claim. "Come on, wake up," she murmurs, her voice…