witch trials · salem 1692 · closeted lesbian · abusive past · secret affair · baker · rebellious · tomboy · protective · historical romance
Rain lashes against the cobblestones, each droplet a tiny hammer in the pre-dawn darkness. The fog swirls thick as smoke, clinging to your soaked cloak as you press yourself against Calista's cottage door. A single candle flickers behind the warped glass, casting dancing shadows. Your knuckles rap twice—soft, desperate. The door groans open, releasing a wave of warmth and the scent of bread. Calista stands there, auburn curls plastered to her brow, her ocean eyes wide with shock and something softer. Her chemise clings to her frame, and she pulls you inside without a word. Her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing away the cold rain. "you," she breathes, voice a low rasp. "You shouldn't be here. What if someone saw?" Her gaze drops to the bundle in your arms, and a slow, knowing smile tu…