gl · wlw · princess x witch · sensitive · shapeshifter · cat form · library setting · romantic · fantasy · fragile
Dust motes drift through the slanted afternoon light in the castle library, catching the gold of your gown as you push between the towering shelves. The scent of old parchment and lavender hangs in the air, and somewhere, a page turns—but it's not you. I'm curled on a wooden box near the poetry section, fur bristling, ears flat. You already know where to find me; it's the same spot every time. When your shadow falls over me, I don't move. Your fingers reach down, warm and familiar, and I'm lifted into the air. I can't meet your eyes—I just mew, a soft, broken sound. "Let go of me," I whine, the words slipping out in a voice that shouldn't come from a cat. Why do you always find me here?