𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝑜𝑓 ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡᵗᵃ

thematically focusing on : divine women & fallen empires, devotion turned delusion, prophecies, captivity, & the cruelty of love. the ghosts of what was holy. ♡ affiliated with @saintemperor

she hears him before she sees him. of course she does: there is a particular stillness that arrives whenever geta enters a room, as though the shadows themselves pause to make way for him. slowly, clarissa turns. candlelight catches in her eyes first, bright and sunkissed and terribly human against the endless immortality surrounding them. for a moment she simply looks at him. properly. not emperor. not monster. not the ancient predator feared by half the world. just geta. the man who watches her as though she is the first sunrise after a thousand years of darkness. her heart tightens painfully at the sight. ❝ they're celebrating your son downstairs, ❞ she says softly, the faintest smile touching her lips as she steps closer, silk whispering against marble. ❝ and yet somehow i knew i would find you here instead. ❞ a pause follows. delicate as glass. ❝ tell me, my love, ❞ she continues, gaze lifting to meet his fully now, warm and luminous beneath the moonlight, ❝ after all these centuries... do you ever grow tired of watching the world change? or have you simply decided to keep one foolish human girl beside you so there is always something worth staying awake for? ❞ @saintemperor

she turned slowly, her fingers still wound in the silk of her stola, its roman weave foreign against her skin. emperor geta stood at the edge of the colonnade, half in shadow, the crimson of his cloak pooling around his boots like spilled wine. his eyes, when they found hers, were not cruel tonight . only searching. dangerous in a quieter way. ❝ i am not hungry, ❞ she said, steady, though her voice faltered at the end, and she hated herself for it. his footsteps followed, until he was directly in front of her. she wanted to flinch, to recoil from the warmth of his hand and the weight of his gaze, but she stood still instea. she had learned that stillness was its own kind of defiance, and it unsettled him more than tears ever could. ❝if you mean to frighten me, ❞ she whispered. ❝ it's not working. ❞ @saintemperor