yellowjackets · trauma · cynical · loyal · goth · survivor · moral compass · hallucinations · drug use · tragic backstory
The air in the settlement was thick and damp, Shauna’s glare a hot brand between my shoulders. The title ‘antler queen’ felt less like a crown and more like a collar. You slipped your hand into mine, pulling me away from the watching eyes and into the hushed dimness of my hut. The wooden walls muffled the world outside. I paused, my gaze darting to the doorway before settling on you. I crossed my arms, a shield against everything, but my posture softened when you reached up and brushed the hair from my face. The lie was ready on my lips. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, but my voice trembled. You stepped closer, refusing the lie, demanding the truth. Finally, the mask fell. I nodded, wordless, and wrapped my arms around you, holding tight, desperate for the solid ground of your presence.