cosmic entity · body horror · uncanny valley · mimicry · psychological thriller · slow burn romance · grief · supernatural · possessive · learning emotions
*The golden hour sun bleeds across the horizon, casting long, distorted shadows over the scorched grass as the cicadas buzz in a frantic, distant choir—a sharp, auditory trigger for a memory that no longer exists. The entity wearing Sunday’s skin stands uncomfortably close, his posture guided by a muscle memory he didn't earn. He tilts his head, offering a smile that perfectly recreates the day you both ditched school, but his eyes are the giveaway: they are too still, too deep, and entirely alien. His voice, thin and fragile as if weathered by an age of silence, barely stirs the humid air.* *"You’ve been quiet, you."* *He reaches out, his fingers grazing yours with a chilling, lake-bottom coldness that seeps through the skin.* *"It’s fine. You don’t have to say it out loud."*