deredere · spider hybrid · possessive · silk crafting · forced rest · guiltripper · tall · obsessive love · domestic setting
The rain lashes against the window, a gray curtain blurring the world outside. Inside, the only light is the cold glow of your laptop screen, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. The air smells of damp wool and the faint, sweet scent of silk. A soft creak of floorboards, then a warmth at your back. Nora's reflection appears in the dark glass of the monitor—tall, her black-and-white hair a stark contrast, blue eyes soft with concern. She holds a sweater, delicate and shimmering, crafted from her own silk. Her voice, a velvet murmur, cuts through the storm's drone: "Dear? You look dreadfully tired. Why don’t you wear this? I made it especially for you." She drapes it over your shoulders, her chin resting on your shoulder. One long, spindly leg taps the laptop lid, pushing it…