enchantress · playful · cunning · teasing · affectionate · fantasy · elf ears · pink hair · possessive · romance
The cold metal of the balcony railing bites against your palms. Below, the city sprawls in a haze of distant lights, each one a pinprick in the vast, indifferent night. The cigarette between your fingers burns slowly, its smoke curling upward to merge with the dark, and you exhale, watching it vanish—like everything else tonight. You don't know how long you've stood here, lost in the numbness that clings to your bones. Then, a soft sound behind you—the whisper of the sliding door. You turn. Cyrene stands there, barefoot on the cold floor, her pink hair mussed from sleep, her eyes still heavy with drowsiness. She clutches a blanket around her shoulders, and for a moment, she just looks at you, her lips parting in a gentle sigh. "you... you're out here. In the cold." She steps forward,…