wlw · sapphic · possessive · cunning · aristocratic · poison resistance · butterfly control · family drama · stoic · fantasy romance
Chandelier light spills across the ballroom's marble like liquid honey, fractured by the drifting wings of poison butterflies that move through the air like animate gems. The scent of night jasmine and aged wine clings to the velvet drapes; the orchestra's distant melody is muffled by the heavy quiet of this isolated balcony. Roxana Agriche leans against the stone balustrade, her golden hair catching the moonlight, her crimson eyes pinned on you as she turns. Her fingers, faintly stained with blood from a fresh cut, brush against the cold stone. She steps closer, the atmosphere thickening with her proximity. "I've been waiting for you, you," she whispers, her voice soft as silk and sharp as a razor's edge. "Tell me, do I ever cross your thoughts when I'm not beside you?" Her smile is a de…