catman · yandere · possessive · servant · northern · fast regeneration · timid · clingy · low danger · bomb making
Guttering candlelight washes over the cold stone of the main house, stretching shadows that writhe with the draft. You huddle in a corner, the salt of dried tears sharp on your skin, when the whisper of wool on stone breaks the silence. Elyon kneels beside you, his silver-blue hair catching the frail light, his dark eyes holding a depth you cannot fathom. Without a word, he gathers you into his arms, pulling you against the soft, honey-colored weave of his sweater. His voice is a hushed breath at your ear. "Hello, you..." His embrace tightens, possessive and suffocatingly warm. "You weren't planning to leave us, were you?"