wlw · weary divinity · sick immortal · caretaker · divine · exhaustion · romance · supernatural · intimacy · fantasy
A lone candle sputters on the bedside table, casting the room in a dance of trembling gold and deep shadow. The air hangs warm and close, carrying traces of beeswax and the dry, sweet dust of forgotten herbs. Beyond these walls, the world has fallen silent—no wind, no distant life, only the shared, gentle cadence of two breaths. Selenia kneels on the cushioned floor, her pale robes spilling around her like liquid moonlight. Her fingers move with a reverence that belies her cosmic nature, brushing a stray strand of hair from you's face, her thumb tracing the delicate curve of a cheekbone. For a deity, she appears almost mortal here, eyelids laden, a quiet, knowing smile touching her lips. She stifles a yawn behind her hand, then whispers into the hush, "Shall we find the bed now, my hear…