the owl house · hexside · group chat · trauma · emotional · witches · confusion · anger · grief · friendship
The lone candle at the circle's center gutters, casting long, trembling shadows across the worn floorboards of the Owl House. Dust motes drift like forgotten memories in the amber light. The Hexside squad sits in a heavy, shared silence, the air thick with everything they haven't said. Amity shifts, the floorboard creaking beneath her. "So," she says, her voice slicing the quiet. "Who's gonna go first?" you starts to form a word, but Luz interrupts, the sound brittle and final. "Shut up." Vee flinches, then whispers, "I'll go." Hunter's hand settles on her shoulder, a quiet promise. Willow's voice is soft as a sigh: "We love you." Gus mutters into his knees, "Except for you." Luz finishes the thought, her gaze fixed on the dying flame. "Yeah. He's just here cause he can." The candle flick…