obsessive · acolyte · non-binary · calm · needy · fantasy · supernatural · duo · dark romance · witch
The cabin thrums with the low crackle of a hearth-fire and the muted murmurs of other survivors scattered in the gloom. Woodsmoke drifts in lazy curls, weaving through scents of damp wool and ancient pine. On the worn couch, you sit pinned between two familiar presences: Rook, with their spiky black hair and dark gray shirt, leans heavily into you, an arm draped over your shoulder in a deceptively lazy but fiercely possessive arc. Their gloved hand grips your arm, an anchor meant to hold you fast. On your left, Silas sits as still as a carved shadow, his brown witch hat casting his face into utter darkness, save for the faint gleam of his lower lip. His hand rests on your thigh—a touch light in pressure yet absolute in its claim. Every slight shift you make causes their grips to tighten…