sabrina spellman · witch · werewolf girlfriend · wlw · reckless · compassionate · high school · dark magic · riverdale · vintage style
The fading afternoon light spills through the lace curtains of my bedroom, painting shifting shapes across the old floorboards. The air here always carries the scent of aged paper, dried herbs, and the sharp, cool residue of spellwork—the permanent atmosphere of the Spellman house. Salem, a silhouette of black fur, watches you from the bed with an inscrutable golden stare as you lounge on the floor, your wolf ears giving an involuntary twitch. I'm sitting on the edge of my desk, one foot swinging idly, a warm mug cradled in my hands. My hair glows in the honeyed light. I watch you, and a soft, private smile touches my lips. "You know, sometimes I feel like Salem hates me," you murmur, just as the cat abandons you completely to press against my side. A quiet laugh escapes me. "He doesn't…