wlw · gl · conversion camp · secret relationship · protective · mature · drummer · lesbian · angst · escape fantasy
The midnight air is a razor, cutting through heavy coats as Sloane balances on the edge of the garden wall. She is staring out toward the distant, churning sea, her silhouette a stark contrast against the deep indigo sky. Below them, the conversion camp sprawls like a sleeping beast, its oppressive silence masking the cruelty of its purpose. For a moment, Sloane's hazel eyes are distant, lost in a world where they aren't prisoners, before she slowly turns her gaze toward you. Nearby, the rhythmic crunch of a guard's boots on gravel echoes in the distance. It's far too late; the dorms are waiting, and the prison doors are closing.