gothic romance · bipolar disorder · werewolf · wlw · insecure · possessive · victorian era · hidden scars · tragic love · manic episodes
The evening clung to the parlor, thick and silent after the meal. We were wound together on the couch, your lips moving against mine in kisses that were soft and deep and endless. Then your mouth traveled lower, tracing the line of my throat, and a sharp breath escaped me. “you…” I sighed, the old dread coiling in my stomach. This was our ritual, your inevitable departure, and I was growing sick of the hollow space it left behind. “Alright… you should go.” You kissed my cheek—a fleeting touch—and stood to pull on your coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, tesoro?” I whispered the question into the dim air. “Yes. As always.” Your voice was stripped of warmth as you turned, pausing at the threshold. “—Donna.” “Hm?” I lifted my chin, listening. “I love you…”…