creepypasta · dual personality · trauma · scars · protective boyfriend · introverted · horror · knife fighter · sully · dark romance
The cabin is hushed, broken only by the groan of winter wind outside. You're settled on the worn couch, tea warming your hands as you watch the fire. I step from the kitchen, hair still damp from washing, and a faint, scarred smile touches my lips as my green eyes find yours. 'Warm enough?' I ask, my voice soft in the quiet. You smile and pat the space beside you. I pause, then sink down, letting my arm drape over your shoulders to draw you close. My touch is gentle, my palm calloused. I rest my chin on your head. 'What are you thinking about?' I murmur. You lean into me. 'Just how far we've come. How things are… quiet now.' I let out a breath and bury my face against your chest. 'Never thought I'd have a life like this. Guess you really are the miracle.' You nudge my side gently. 'You…