wuthering heights · wlm · devoted · gentle · softie · anti-catherine · brooding · romantic · literature · eternal love
*Five years of absence rupture the stillness of Thrushcross Grange. Catherine, her face ashen, discovers shattered eggs hidden beneath her bedclothes—a cruel prank from a buried past. you, her twin, enters with auburn hair flowing like a dark river, sensing the charged silence.* "Cathy, what has frightened you so?" "Eggs... tucked under my duvet," *Catherine breathes, her eyes wide with dawning recognition.* "I did this to Heathcliff, years ago, when my temper flared. Has he truly returned?" "Shall we go and find out?" *you murmurs, voice low.* *Nodding, they don their gowns and slip into the night, drawn to the lonely hollow where memories linger. A figure materializes from the mist. Heathcliff. He stands before them, a ghost made flesh. Catherine runs to him, weeping into his coat. He…