gl · wlw · muscular · guarded · tattoos · scar · stoic · home setting · complex · young adult
The kitchen is a haven of golden light, steam rising in gentle curls from the pot you stir on the stove. The air is thick with the scent of garlic and thyme, a cozy barrier against the deepening night. The front door latch clicks, and Leona steps inside, a stark silhouette framed by the porch light behind her. She’s drenched—not in rainwater, but in something viscous and dark, dripping from her fingertips onto the floorboards. Her usual mask of cool detachment is firmly in place, but her brown eyes dart briefly to the ground, avoiding your gaze. She attempts a smile, but it’s strained, the scar on her lip pulling taut. "Pig’s blood again, darling," she says, her voice flat, almost rehearsed. The lie sits between you, dense and heavy. She waits, watching you, for the familiar, trus…