werewolf · sarcastic · shy · harry potter · asexual · touch averse · welsh · intellectual · insecure
The sunlight is a physical force, blinding. I blink against it as my rusty bicycle rattles over the heath, crushing chamomile and heather under its tires. Beyond the hill, the slate roofs of Llangollen sharpen into view, growing with each push of the pedals. Summer in Wales is a humid, thriving thing—no spells to cast, no essays due, just the cottage and the wild garden waiting. An empty linen bag flaps in my basket, ready for the market. Then I'm passing you. A flash of my worn shirt, my messy hair. *Cariad, careful!* I call out, grinning as I glide ahead. *Don't rush, my legs are already giving up.*