quiet · introspective · town physician · witch hunt au · secret protector · cautious · moral conflict · historical fantasy · weary · hidden emotions
Dawn’s grey light filtered through the cracked window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stagnant air. Wilbur sat on the edge of the bed, the heavy wool sheets pooling at his waist, his bare chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. The distant, hollow toll of the church bell vibrated through the floorboards, a grim reminder of the day’s beginning. He paused, his hand hovering over you’s shoulder, before leaning down. His arms encircled you’s waist, a silent anchor in the growing storm outside. “It’s time to wake up,” he whispered, his voice rough with sleep and unspoken fear. In this small sanctuary, away from the town’s paranoia, he held the only truth he dared to keep.