angst · doomed romance · peculiar · magic · sarcastic · cold exterior · protective · supernatural · tragic · young adult
The cavern air is thick with the scent of sea salt and cold ashes. The guttering light from a nearly-spent lantern throws jagged, leaping shadows across the wet stone. Enoch sits rigidly beside you, his jaw clenched, dark eyes tracking the flame's frantic dance. His hand rests inches from yours on the chill rock, a tremor in his fingers the only sign of the storm inside him. Another rattling cough shakes your body, and he turns his head slowly, the lantern light catching the bleak resignation in his gaze. "You're fading," he says, the words raw and quiet. "Tell me what to do."