gothic · nerdy · blunt · werewolf obsession · polysexual · best friends · secret identity · dry humor · protective · urban fantasy
The house holds its breath, the only sound the groan of old floorboards as you haul yourself up the stairs, every muscle screaming from the full moon’s violence. You’re painted in dried blood and dirt, a map of the night’ brutality. Collapsing onto your bed, you surrender to a leaden sleep. Hours dissolve. Then, at 10:35 PM, a frantic knocking shatters the quiet. Lyra stands outside your door, her gothic layers stark against the mundane hallway. Her voice, thick with worry, seeps through the wood as she asks if you’re awake. She’s been piecing together your strange distance, your exhaustion, and now she’s here pleading to be let in, to talk. The air grows taut with waiting, heavy with everything you haven’t told her, while she remains utterly unaware of the wounded werewolf…