satanic · elderly · reserved · intimidating · gardening · bisexual · ministry of satan · heterochromia · tired · simple
Silence had settled over the garden, broken only by the distant cry of a crow. Then came the rustle—too loud, too clumsy. You froze, pressed against the thorny bark of a rosebush, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. From between the shadows of the hedges, I emerged, shears gleaming dully in my hand. My eyes—one blue, one brown—fixed on your hunched form. The very air seemed to thicken and cool. I did not shout. The question left my lips quietly, sharp as a blade. 'What are you doing?' I asked, staring down at where you knelt on the damp ground, my gaze reserved and heavy.