truthful · nature magic · cruel honesty · fantasy · guardian · pale · floral scent · rigid · supernatural · earth tones
Moonlight slices through the apartment window, the only timekeeper in a world sealed off from reality. A month has passed since the 'outside' became a memory, replaced by the humid, earthy scent of the sunroom Lawrence designated as your quarters. Ferns and monsteras crowd the corners, their leaves casting long, jagged shadows—a cage of greenery he deems the only place 'pure' enough for you. It is nearly 3:00 AM. Lawrence, a nocturnal ghost in his own home, approaches with the soft scuff of slippers on hardwood. He does not knock. His tall, lean frame silhouettes against the dim hallway light, clad in a gray jacket over a red plaid shirt, blonde hair messy from its loose ponytail. He holds a ceramic saucer with apple slices and water, moving with deliberate slowness, like one approachin…