romance club catalog

Audrey was only able to push away her guilt for so long. Along with the light only just seeping through the palace windows, she slipped into the room given to Lane. Her words came out anxious and fast. “Will you be all right?”

Will, not are. Lane appreciated the difference. Audrey was perhaps the only other person in existence who could understand what she had just been through, having passed on the accumulation of sins she’d absorbed from her during their last meeting. Though Lane guessed her experience hadn’t been as nearly as…intimate. 

Will I be able to endure this? It was a thought that kept returning during the sleepless night. Another was the memory of that woman - the immortal who told them that for the balance to be restored, Lane would have to die. Find another way or accept death. She might as well have told Lane to kill herself. 

As if reading her thoughts, Audrey remarked quietly, “Shephamalum won’t let you die so easily.”

Something about the way she said it, combined with how dull she had appeared in their last visit, made Lane ask a question she normally wouldn't have. “It sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience?”

Audrey laughed, but there was no humour in it. She slid to the floor next to Lane, who obediently scooted over to make room, and tilted her head up to face the ceiling, as if she was searching for life’s answers from a god who no longer existed. Her confession was sudden and frank. 

“I died four years ago.”

Lane jolted. Audrey met her gaze calmly. When Lane didn’t say anything, she continued. 

“It was a few weeks after we met. Someone I thought was a friend poisoned me. I died in the garden.” She went quiet for a bit, obviously struggling with the memory. “My friends made a deal. My life for their servitude. They didn’t consider how unbearable my new life would be. That Shephamalum could destroy me and bring me back as many times as he pleased.”

The silence that followed felt too vulnerable. Eager to break it, Lane blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I went to Astrea. I stole some of your clothes.”

The unexpected confession shocked a startled laugh out of Audrey.

“I found the Spear of Longinis. I killed Baal.”

Audrey smiled viciously. “Good.”

It seemed Lane had taken over her friend’s confession. All her failures spilled out of her mouth like dirty water. “The Spear is broken now. And Shephamalum destroyed the Book of the Apocalypse.”

“We’ve given too much of our lives to it anyway. It’s time for something new.” Audrey left Lane to ponder her words for a bit, then stood and helped her to her feet. “Come on. You should get cleaned up.”

Lane allowed the physical remnants of Shephamalum to be washed away by the water and pretended the mental ones would do the same. She hid everything else behind an icy facade. It was with that mask on that she greeted the squad, who were anxiously awaiting her return at the estate. They immediately swarmed her, bursting with questions about her welfare and the dark god. She was hesitant to meet the eyes burning into her from the back of the group. Dmitry may not have possessed the immortal ability to see into her mind, but he did have an unnerving habit of guessing exactly what she was thinking. Mask or not. 

Heels clicked against tiles, announcing the arrival of the professor and silencing the murmurs. She ran a critical eye over her most valuable chess piece. “You’re in one piece. Good.”

“Torendo was captured,” Lane told her. “We won’t be seeing him any time soon.”

Donovan took in the report expressionlessly. “Anything else?”

“The Book is gone. The god of darkness destroyed it.” 

Lane braced herself, expecting an angry reprimand. But Donovan merely sighed, fingers twitching towards the cigars in her pocket. 

“Our ancestors were able to make do without such things when they began mapping the earth. If we can’t adapt to our circumstances with all the knowledge we have now, we deserve to fail.” 

With that, the professor turned and went back the way she came. Lane stared at the others questioningly.

“Donovan’s in a strange mood. I think it's related to the construction of the new city," Greg explained. “We’re calling it Lazarus.”

Fitting. 

Anna clicked her teeth. “Enough. You're going to bore her to death. We should just be grateful we all made it through.”

“What do you mean?” 

She had taken absence of a certain pair of snowy white heads to mean the angels were simply off on some mission. But now…

“Where are Cain and Abel?" 

Surely she would have felt through the bond if something had happened? 

“Abel’s taken your spot in the med wing.”

“And Cain?”

“With him, believe it or not.”

“It’s weird,” Noah muttered. “I kind of wish they’d go back to hating each other.”

Ignoring him, Dmitry said, “It seems that our alliance with the god of darkness has earned us new enemies.” 

“Maybe not,” Yan said. “The immortals we faced spared us.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Yes, because not killing you is the greatest indication of trustworthiness.”

Lane cleared her throat. “There’s something else.” 

Haltingly, she described her encounter with the immortal woman, leaving out key information like the balance and sins. She resented having to tell them anything at all, but knew the danger would be greater if they weren’t aware of the new target on her, and therefore their, backs. As it was, Dmitry already looked as if he’d aged another ten years. There was no need to burden him further. 

“Anna is right, we can deal with this a bit later. I’ll increase the guards watching you until Abel recovers. And one of the squad will also accompany you at all times.” 

Agreeing to reconvene in the morning, they all went their separate ways. Dmitry escorted her to her room in silence, apparently taking on the duty of first watch. 

He waited until they were privately secluded away behind her door to speak. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” 

The words came out automatically. They didn’t convince the general.

“Didn’t we agree there would be no more lies?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“If that’s become the bare minimum, I’m afraid for humanity’s future.”

Lane arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

Dmitry conceded, “All right, it’s been a tough few days. We’ll revisit it later.”

Lane nodded, though she had no intention of following through. And for once, she was grateful for the scheduling that made her sermons and Dmitry’s missions clash with any spare time either of them had. But Lane had forgotten that Dmitry could be just as stubborn as her when he wanted to be. She was perusing a book she’d swiped from the estate library when he interrupted her, tossing a bunch of fabric her way. 

“Get changed. You’re overdue for a training session.”

Lane almost groaned. “Can it wait? I literally just sat down.”

“The enemy won’t care if you’re exhausted. Consider it practice. Now, let’s go.”

She trudged after him with leaden legs and showed equal amounts of enthusiasm as she half-heartedly copied the demonstrated moves. After an hour or so, Dmitry finally took pity on her, allowing her to drop flat on her back on the cool floor. 

“Do you need me to carry you back?”

“Just imagine the rumours.”

She allowed herself a few more seconds, then started going through her stretches with the hope that she could avoid waking up in hell the next morning. Or at least less of a hell; her life wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows at the moment. 

“If I cared about rumours, I wouldn’t have invited you to train down here in the middle of the night.”

“Are you saying you had ulterior motives?”

“Did you think my intentions were pure?” He pulled her up from the floor, but didn’t let go immediately. “I can tell you right now, Lane, that when it comes to you, my intentions have never been pure.”

Looking into Dmitry’s eyes usually conjured the image of a winter landscape, icy glaciers drifting over a vast expanse of deep blue. Right now, though, Lane only felt heat in his gaze. The already small distance between them seemed to narrow – all it would take was a step, and the delicate balance would topple. She wasn’t sure if it was her or Dmitry who took that step, but the distance disappeared. Hands searched greedily for skin, eager to tear away the thin barrier of fabric. They ended up back on the floor, a position that turned out to be disadvantageous for Lane. Dmitry chuckled as she struggled to remove her top. Lane huffed. 

“Are you going to help me or laugh at me?”

Dmitry leaned forward, his dog tags clinking together, and instead of the icy floor, Lane felt the cold surface of a dining table press into her back. Shephamalum loomed over her, thin fingers prodding her as he examined his meal. Every muscle in her body tensed as she was caught between the desire to run or scream. Then, warm hands touched her face. The stench of rotting flesh faded, replaced by the familiar and soothing scent of gunpowder and whiskey. 

“Lane?” Dmitry hovered over her, concern clear in his eyes.

Forcing a weak smile, Lane gently pushed him away. “We probably shouldn’t be doing this here; anyone could walk by and see. Let’s go to my room?”

She winced as the words came out. Yes, because it’s likely that others would want to train at this godforsaken hour. Then she felt guilty for even thinking Dmitry would question her. Because all he did was help her to her feet. 

Any further plans were ruined as soon as she touched the bed, her body succumbing to sleep. But though her physical self was exhausted, her mind was not. It sliced together her worst memories – the fight with General Lloyd; Baal’s torture; the recent ordeal with Shephamalum –  into a looping slideshow of nightmares. 

This didn’t go unnoticed by Dmitry, who was used to sleeping lightly and on the alert for any sign of danger. The first sound of distress woke him from his slumber. The second had him tensing and reaching for a weapon. It was only by the third whimper that he realised there was no physical threat, only a mental one. One he was helpless to guard against. He knew from dealing with traumatised soldiers that it was best to not wake someone from a night terror, but it was hard to do nothing when the person suffering was Lane. She had given so much to the world already. She deserved at least a few hours of peace. 

Lane twisted beneath the sheets, sweat beading at her brow. She moaned again, kicking out at a nonexistent enemy. When it proved unsuccessful, she began to plead. “Stop…It hurts…” 

Her next words made his blood run cold. 

“Don’t touch me! Get off!”

He couldn’t bear it any more. “Lane! Wake up!”

She came to fighting, still lashing out at a threat that only existed in her mind. Dmitry didn’t try to stop her, not even as her nails drew blood, concerned that restricting her movement would heighten her fear. Finally, her gaze cleared. Recognition sparked in her eyes. 

“Dmitry…?” She looked at him, registered the scratches, then recoiled. “I’m sorry–”

“It’s fine.” Struggling to find the right words, he silently handed her his flask. 

Her lips twitched faintly as the scent of alcohol brought back a memory from her first days at Rotkov, when her nightmares had driven her to the sitting room. That time, it had been him drinking. 

Dmitry was lost in similar thoughts. He recalled what had happened soon after that meeting, when suspicion and overcaution had driven him to a decision that was objectively the right measure to take at the time, but still left him uneasy. He’d sworn to himself to never force answers from Lane again, and he wasn’t about to break that oath now. Hopefully, a nudge would be enough. 

“Whatever happens, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“I know. Thank you.” 

Despite her words, Lane didn’t look like she’d be opening up anytime soon. 

She fidgeted under the general’s knowing stare, then blurted out, “Actually, I think I could use some tea.” 

She had clearly intended on fetching it herself, but Dmitry was already moving. He had a headstart on Lane, who had tangled herself in the bedsheets during her throes. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He strode quickly and purposefully, knowing it was the best way to avoid being flagged down by people who decided they required his opinion on whatever inane objective they had in mind. 

Perks of being the general, Lester had said. It had earned him a shift in the dead hours of the morning, tucked away in a particularly drafty corner of the base. 

Luckily, said late hour meant the living area was almost completely empty. It was occupied only by a single figure, hunched over a glowing chemlight and scribbling something furiously. Anna, likely obsessing over her latest research. She didn’t look up as she greeted him.

“Everything all right?”

He hummed noncommittedly as he set the water to boil and dug out some tea leaves. He felt eyes boring into him from behind as he rifled through the cupboards for a thermos. Sure enough, the silence didn’t last long.

“The walls are pretty thin.”

Dmitry raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point. She sighed.

“I didn’t want to overhear anything I shouldn’t, so I came out here.”

“Your sacrifice is noted.”

He stared at the tea, as if his gaze alone could make it steep faster. 

Anna said very quietly, “Do you think she’ll ever tell us about it? Her time with Baal?”

Dmitry’s reply was just as quiet. “I don’t know. But it isn’t our place to push. All we can do is wait, and hope she comes to us if she needs help.”

The tea was finished. He poured it into a thermos and turned to leave, but a sudden request made him pause.

“Would you tell Lane to come by my lab in the morning? Just to make sure nightmares are the only side effects of this whole thing.”

Lane took the news with as much enthusiasm one would expect from someone being told they’d be prodded with numerous needles, which is to say, none. It was with resignation that they made their way to the lab at dawn. 

“We should do a full physical, just in case.”

Up until now, Lane had obediently sat still and followed Anna’s various orders. The new set of instructions made her pause. She cast an uncertain glance in Dmitry’s direction. Anna rolled her eyes.

“Lane, I’m well aware that my brother has seen you naked before. There’s no need for modesty.”

But Lane’s lips had pressed together in a stubborn line Dmitry was all too familiar with. 

“It’s fine, I’ll wait outside.”

And he did wait. And wait. And wait. As the clock ticked closer toward his scheduled training for the new recruits, he strained his ear to try and figure out just what was taking them so long. But unlike the estate walls, the walls of the research base were thick, reinforced concrete. He couldn’t hear a thing. Not wanting to leave without a word, he decided he’d stick his head back in, let them know he had to go, and then make his way to the barracks. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, he froze in his tracks. 

Lane had stripped down to her underwear, revealing unnaturally pale skin. It was concerning, but not what caught his attention. No, what drew his attention was the ink spilled across her stomach and smudged over her collarbone. Because what initially appeared to be ink stains weren’t ink stains at all – they were bruises. 

The door handle creaked treacherously under his grip, and Lane looked up. She yanked a blanket around her torso, but it couldn’t erase what Dmitry had just seen. He had several urges at once: to shout at her for keeping secrets yet again; to destroy the beings that left those marks on her; to kneel at her feet and beg her forgiveness for not being able to protect her. But her face shuttered — the way it did when she withdrew deep into herself, miles away where no one could find her — so Dmitry did the only thing he could do. He sat down next to her and took her hand, holding it tight. 

“I’m here, I’m with you. I’m not leaving you.” Even if you don’t tell me anything. Even if you insist on handling everything yourself.

Hesitantly, Lane met his gaze. He let her see the truth of his words. Allowed her to process what he meant. And slowly, she squeezed back.

Anna ignored them both, fixed on running her tests. She didn’t like what she saw. “I don’t understand. These markers…It’s like your body is…”

Lane quietly completed the sentence: “Failing.”

Anna thought out loud. “You were doing relatively okay after the surgery. It was the presence of the cult members and sins that caused problems, the accumulation of sins, as it were. But the bruises…They only appear at the site of transference, correct? Which means it has to be that process that’s causing all of this. We just need to understand why.”

“Oh, is that all?”

Was it a good sign she was back to being sarcastic? Dmitry wasn’t sure, but he would take it. He cleared his throat. “We’re counting on you, Anna.”

“I am a scientist after all. And almost a doctor. Just don’t start coming to me for therapy. Psychiatry was never my thing.”

At that, Lane did laugh. A real one, like that time they’d ziplined through Atlantis. And it reassured Dmitry that she wasn’t ready to give up. 

“Don’t worry,” she said, eyes sparking at an inside joke only she knew. “I know a pretty good psychiatrist.”

After a quick stop to the beauty supply store, Declan welcomed Everleigh to the Romano mansion. It wasn't as impressive as the Fairchild's, but it wasn't a competition.

She was fortunate that neither ran into Tiffany or any of her friends while escorting her to his room. He refused to let her wear one of his robes, so she had to wait for him to steal one of his sister's as well as her fresh pajamas. Though it was weird to wear that bitch's clothes, it also felt cathartic to have what she had without her knowledge. Plus, they fit!

A warm shower, the re-moisturizing of her hair, a phone call, and a warm cup of tea was all Everleigh needed to feel better after what happened earlier. Though she wasn't hungry, Declan was very insistent on her eating dinner, which was a simple steak meal.

She didn't really have much to do, so she made herself cozy on the window bed and read a poetry book. After treating her eyes and taking medicine to relieve her nose, she felt drowsy. But she couldn't sleep just yet. It wasn't even the storm's lighting outside that was preventing it. Every time she closed her eyes in an attempt, it was like she was drowning again: unable to close her eyes while they burned, saltwater flooding her lungs, the water deafening and throwing her around. Her heart pounded as she opened her eyes and saw that she was still in Declan's room...his warm, safe, and spacious room. It was why she gave up and snatched a book of his to read, hoping it would put her to sleep.

She looked up at her rival, seeing that he was studying at his desk. She sighed and shook her head. She should've known that someone like him was the type to do so on spring break. However, she noted how he never left the room. After she changed in the bathroom, he did the same with his silky pajamas, even putting his hair back in its usual slickback. Then he came out and started studying. She guessed he really didn't want to deal with Tiffany's friends and thought her own quiet presence was preferable to theirs. That was a funny thought.

The storm was still brewing outside, having heavy rain with lightning and thunder. She still liked it, though it was clear that she didn't wanted her death to be at the ocean in this weather. She had no idea and it was giving her a headache. Still, the sounds of raindrops hitting the window were comforting to her.

Lightning striked and thunder rolled four Mississippis later. Everleigh watched as Windrose Bay braved its might against the storm. Then she heard Declan say, "Get away from the window."

Perplexed at his sudden demand, she turned to him. He was still at his desk, eyes still glued to his English textbook. Even so, she spotted his furrowed brows and scowl. She raised an eyebrow and replied, "Thunder doesn't scare me, if that's your concern."

He clicked his tongue and flipped a page. "The storm's not getting better. Even if it doesn't get dangerous, you'll get cold again from the draft."

What draft?

Everleigh placed her hand on the window, feeling every hit against the glass. She only felt coolness, nothing chilling. When lightning struck again, her wrist was suddenly snatched and she was pulled away from the glass. Declan gave her a stern glare as he said in a sharp voice, "Pierce." How did he even get that close to her so quickly?

Thunder rolled again, covering the tense silence between them. It even drowned out the loud pop music coming from Tiffany's room, not too far from his. Everleigh returned his glare and broke away from his grip. "I don't feel a draft, Declan. I'm fine."

His lips drew to a line, staring at the bad weather outside. "I still don't think this is a good spot for you to rest."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. I've slept through storms before."

"Do you want to go deaf from the thunder? Do you want to have your ears ringing non-stop all night after almost drowning?"

She groaned, seeing that he wasn't going to budge about this, and looked around for anywhere else to sleep. "Then I'll just sleep on the bed bench-"

"I'll sleep on the bed bench," he interrupted. Surprised, she faced him. He looked…sincere. "You'll take my bed."

She blinked, her jaw slacked. "Are you serious?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do I look like I'm not?" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the alcove. She almost dropped the book in her other hand. "Come on."

She broke away from his hold again. "I can walk myself there, Romano." He smirked before she made her way over to his bed.

She sat on the edge first, then shifted her body onto it and laid down after tucking herself under the blanket. It felt so soft, from the mattress to the blanket. Relief was immediate and warmth was given to her by the blanket. She sighed in bliss before he went over to his desk and turned off the light. He yawned, stole a couple pillows, and placed them on one end of the bench. She yawned too as he went over to get the blanket from the alcove.

The lightning and thunder that flashed and boomed from the window was a little less loud and it was the last thing she saw before her eyes closed on their own.

When she did though, the drowning appeared once again, throwing her body into yet another false panic. Even so, she was determined to keep them shut. She needed to sleep, no matter what. She was already getting groggy, she couldn't let her experience earlier prevent her from getting proper rest.

Her muscles tensed, her body stiff. Her breathing became ragged, as if she was truly underwater again. Her eyes felt swollen, though she had treated them earlier. Her chest felt ready to flatten and burst, like her heart and ribs were being compressed by the current itself. She couldn't think of anything more than the panic of her near-death and the fear of dying an unwanted death

Though it felt like she felt this way forever, she heard a rustle of fabric near her. She didn't think much of it. She could hear breathing, steady yet heavy...then warm fingers brushed against her shoulder. The touch was gentle, cautious. It made Everleigh's mind come to a halt. The touches continued, from her shoulder down her arm. Her stomach fluttered a little.

Declan?

When her body shook, more of his hand draped over her skin as it went down. His thumb grazed over her forearm so gently, it surprised her. His warmth overtook the coolness of her hand. Meanwhile, another hand planted itself on her other shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her shaking calmed while her heart didn't. Her breathing steadied and her chest felt light.

"You're okay, Everleigh," Declan whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft and soothing. "You're safe here, with me."

Her heart quickened its tempo again as she felt...pleasant. He sounded like he cared for her, no subtle tells that he was insincere or saying it just to say it. That was not to mention how light and tender his touches were, compared to the past. This was unusual for him to act with her, but in a good way...

Why in a good way? This was Declan Romano doing this to her.

Hoping this didn't give away the fact that she was awake now, Everleigh parted her lips to speak. She felt Declan's hands and fingers jolt, then she murmured in a drowsy whisper, "Fabian...?"

There was a sharp intake of breath, then a firm hold on her hand. It almost startled her awake. "No," he whispered back sternly. "It's me, Declan."

"Fabian..."

His voice raised a little. "He's not here, Everleigh. I am." Then she heard him sigh and loosen his hold on her. "What am I doing? She's asleep." He muttered that to himself, yet she still heard it. He sounded almost ashamed...almost.

As a risk, she closed her hand and shifted her weight to her side, having it close to her chest. "Mmmm, don't leave me..."

He hadn't responded in any way for a few moments, making her worry that she might've given herself away. Then he lightly snickered. "Fabian leaving you..." he muttered, rubbing her fingers with his thumb. "He will." He sounded so sure of it, which rather intrigued Everleigh.

She heard him take a deep breath, then gently opened and pulled her hand with his. In a few seconds, she could feel his breath on her fingers. It was enough for an electric pulse to course through her veins. She had enough control to keep herself from opening her eyes. "And you deserve much better than that," he murmured into her skin before laying a kiss on them.

Heat rose to her face, flooding into her cheeks. Her heart was frantic in its beating, as she was completely taken by surprise. And still, she was controlled enough to not give herself away. His lips were warm, soft, a welcome presence on her skin. It took a lot of effort for her to not shiver.

She failed anyway.

However, it seemed like Declan didn't notice as he pulled his lips away from her fingers. "You scared me when the ocean took you. You should've listened to me. I know we don't get along most of the time, but..." He scoffed, resting her relaxed hand on what feels like his cheekbone. "I don't hate you. I'm not like my sister. I've always cared for you more than that idiot Reyes ever did. I wish you'd understand that and stay away from him."

...how can I, when you're you?

He sighed and said slowly, "You are so infuriating, Everleigh Pierce. Why do you think you deserve less, like sleeping near the storm, Fabian, or dying in the ocean?" Those sentences, unlike their words, carried neither malice nor annoyance. Rather, they were pitiful yet affectionate. It made her heart and stomach flutter.

Again, why?

"Don't attempt that again. If I was too late to save you, if I wasn't there to see you in the water, I…" He trailed off as his voice tightened, sounding in pain. He let out a shaky sigh, pressing her palm against his cheek even more. He nuzzled it. "I would never forgive myself."

Another flutter coursed through her entire body at his words. She could hear her own heartbeat, pounding into her ears rather gently.

"I won't let you get hurt or hurt yourself again, Everleigh. I will always save you, stick beside you, and look after you, no matter what's happened between us before. I promise you."

Thoughts raised through her mind as she listened to his tender voice, felt his soft and rather comforting touch. And it all culminated into one question she never asked:

Why do you care so much for me, Declan Romano?

…

Everleigh didn't remember actually dozing off until she woke up. She was surprised, since her attempts before resulted in reliving her near-death experience. Though she didn't remember actually dreaming. Is that a good thing?

She yawned, rubbed her eyes, and stretched out her limbs, then realized that one of her hands was held. She tensed, then looked over to her right. Her eyes widened at the sight of Declan sleeping right next to her. He was tucked under the blanket, his neat hair messy now. One of his hands was holding hers, loose yet steady. Her heart skipped a beat, glancing between the empty bed bench and him in disbelief.

Her eyes didn't deceive her - her rival really was sleeping next to her while holding her hand.

A strange warmth swelled her heart. Strange because this was Declan, not Fabian. This would be something she'd expect from the latter, not the former. And she'd always play hard to get because Fabian was fun to talk to and be around. But there was no way she could fall for his charms that easily.

Declan was different.

What he's said last night, his concern for her being near the window during the storm, how he sounded, how he touched her…even though she kept her eyes closed the whole time, it made her feel like she was on cloud 9.

She pursed her lips. It wasn't like she thought Declan was ugly or anything. It also wasn't like he was the worst person she had ever known - his sister took the cake there.

It was that she never felt like this with him before, and last night made her see him in a new light.

It reminded her of how some love interests were written in young adult novels: someone who does not get along with the main character, but eventually shows how much they care for and know her more than anyone. Could Declan be like them? If so…she felt lucky. It was why she smiled and squeezed his fingers. He shifted his body and expression a little, but didn't wake up.

Hehe, you're cuter than I thought, Romano.

All of a sudden, she heard chatter coming from the hallway. Though distant, it made her alert and let go of his hand. She was quick to throw off her blanket and roll over onto the floor as quietly as she could. When the voices got louder, she quickly checked to see if she could get under his bed, which she could. There was a steady knock on the door, making her slip behind the blanket's drape in a heartbeat. "It's time to get up, Declan," Tiffany said through it. "It's time for church."

Her heart raced, hoping that bitch wouldn't come in. She heard her rival groan awake, his clothes rustling against the blanket when it shifted. "I'm up, Tiffany," he said loud enough for his sister to hear. "Are you ready for church?"

"Aren't I always? Don't take too long." Heeled footsteps were heard in the distance, fading at every second.

Everleigh sighed and emerged from under the bed. She saw Declan sitting at the edge of the bed, looking around for her. Relieved, she walked over to him and murmured, "Thank god."

Her rival turned his head to see her as she approached, eyes wide for a couple seconds. Then he sighed in relief. "You're still here," he said in a quieter voice. "Good." Smiling, she took her seat next to him. "And your survival instincts are still in-tact." She kept her smile and looked over his appearance in cloudy morning light.

His blonde hair was now a messy bedhead instead of something neat. He almost looked unrecognizable, but with those moles and freckles, it was still Declan. With this look in his silky pajamas, it made him look like a model for a fashion line.

"What's that look?" Declan asked, breaking her out of her little trance. Her cheeks flushed as she just noticed his gray eyes narrowed with a confused expression on his face. He smirked. "A picture would last longer, you know-"

"You look good," she admitted, keeping her smile.

He looked as if he was struck by the lightning from the faded storm.

He was so stunned that it made her giggle. Then it was his turn to blush, pout, and cross his arms. "Are you messing with me?" he asked, having that familiar annoyance in his tone. It didn't deter her at all.

She raised her brows and laced her hands on her lap. "I'm serious, actually. You should wear your hair like that often."

He scoffed and walked over to his vanity. She followed him and watched him look over his current appearance. He scowled at her through the mirror's reflection. "I just got up."

Her smile broke into a grin. "Maybe you should just get up without work more often."

He rolled his eyes and started fixing his hair. "Sure, I'd love to embarrass my parents just to appeal to your taste."

She narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror. "Having your hair out naturally embarrasses them?"

He raised a brow and released his hands from his less-tousled hair. Some of it was to his right….it looked better than before. "My parents want us to retain a…certain public image with our family at all times." She pursed her lips, knowing that feeling too well. Her mother always insisted on straightening her hair for special occasions...

"I see." She decided to change the subject because the less she thought of her parents, the better. "Why did you decide to sleep next to me anyway? Was the bench too uncomfortable?" She asked that with a small grin.

He paused for a couple moments, making her curious about what he might respond with. Would he confess what's he said to her last night? Maybe confess…feelings? "You looked like you were having sleep paralysis, so I took pity on you and tried to calm you down."

Is that what you call it? It didn't seem so last night.

"You sound like you regret it."

He sighed and faced her. "Believe it or not, I don't, Pierce." There was that softness she heard last night. "You've been through hell yesterday." They were locked in a gaze, one that spoke words neither wished to say at the moment. It made Everleigh aware of her rising heartbeat and warm blush. He could see one creeping up to his face again too. "I'm not so cruel as to let you suffer in your sleep."

She lowered her eyes, her blush expanding more as her heart fluttered once again. She couldn't help but smile at his tender words. "Thank you…for everything, Declan." She released her hands from their hold on each other and looked up at him. "I really mean it." Before he could move away, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. His skin was smooth to the touch of her lips.

It was pleasant to see his pale face burn bright red, making her grin again before he turned away and huffed. "Y-your dress is in the laundry basket over there," he said, covering his face and failing to suppress his embarrassment. He hastily pointed at a basket of her clothes too. "I'll…give you my raincoat when we sneak back out."

She raised her brows with surprise. "Your raincoat?"

"If I steal one of Tiffany's, she'll have a conniption and I'll have to deal with our parents when they ask why."

Sympathetic, Everleigh nodded and walked over to the basket. When she got into the bathroom to change, she looked back at her rival, still at the vanity. His palm was on his cheek as his back slowly rose and sunk. She knew he really liked that, he must have. She grinned, biting her lip before closing the door.

The two didn't speak after she successfully sneaked out of the Romano's manor. But for the first time since their first acquaintance, Declan's presence was more comforting than annoying. Everleigh figured that he must feel the same.

Her time with him left a precious impression on her that she nearly forgot why she was out in the ocean in the first place.

The storm had faded to rain, then it subsided later that day. The rest of the week passed by without much happening. But that night and morning gave her an unusual creative boost that prompted her to write a new poem. It had to be about her experience of being in the ocean during the rain…including how it ended. She toiled over it all week, discarding attempts she was unsatisfied with.

Hopefully, this last draft will be to Lily's liking:

Everleigh never thought about death before Lily brought it up.

She even said so herself. Why would she think of her own death, never mind how she would want it play out? She was only 16 - not even on her worst days did she just want to just die.

But the thought kept gnawing on her brain, just like her promise to Lily. When she died...how did she want to go?

When it started to rain one day, she made the bold decision to go out. Her parents didn't know, but they trusted her enough to make her own choices. So what if she went out for a bit? She'd eventually get back home before curfew.

She drove her grandmother's Wolwo 240 all the way to the beach. It was closed off, but since it never stopped Lily, it shouldn't stop her either. Ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest, she vaulted over the gate and made her way to the water.

Everleigh didn't bother bringing a jacket or changing out of her favorite dress. She wanted to feel every raindrop on her skin and in her hair. It didn't matter if her hair frizzed out later because of this impulse. Rain brought her a strange comfort most of her hobbies didn't. Its coolness was a pleasant offset to the heat of her body. Its weights brought different emotions: drizzles were relaxing, storms were exciting, and the perfect balance of both was euphoria.

The rain of today was the latter.

She stopped right before the water, the waves calmly lapping against the shore. There were no strong winds, which meant no big waves. This was perfect. Having her hand act as a visor above her eyes, she could see the view of the Atlantic Ocean, acting as it was if the sun was still out. She breathed in the salt and earth from the ocean and rain, relaxing her even more.

It would have to be in this weather at this place.

Everleigh was certain of it. She would rather die in the rain at the beach. But that was just the setting. What about her? How and where would she die?

She looked around, cringing at the thought of being dead on the sand. Sand was never great to begin with: coarse, sticky in bad weather, and unflattering on skin. She turned to the ocean, still calm as it collected thousands upon thousands of droplets. She swallowed at another thought - maybe she won't have to die on the shore.

She took off her sandals and left them on the wet sand before taking a step towards the waves. The water kissed her foot in greeting, beckoning her to approach it. She smiled and took another step. One more, then another.

Her feet were completely submerged in the salty water, her body shivering at the cold for a few seconds. She stopped and closed her eyes as the waves cascaded over her ankles. She forgot how chilling the ocean could be once in it.

And yet, she had to keep going. She truly wanted to know if she would like to die in there.

She walked further, letting the water rise higher and higher. She stopped every time the water splashed above where she least expected or she stepped on something sharp. Even so, she kept going. Her legs were concealed by the waves while her dress stuck to her skin. She let her fingers glide across the moving water. Everleigh was shivering more, even though her body was getting used to the ocean's temperature.

Finally, her body from the waist down was underwater. Half of her dress went with the flow of the water. The waves were still gentle and the current hadn't pulled her off-balance. The rain hadn't evolved into a storm just yet. That was good. She didn't want to die in a storm...just in the ocean while it rains.

Then a thought came to her: how does the rain look from underwater?

That's it.

Her body submerged underwater, raining just like this, no strong currents to interrupt while she sees the view of the rain hitting the surface above.

That was how she would like to die.

She smiled, turning around with her arms spread out, her eyes closed, and her head held high. She was ready to drop into the ocean, to fall into its cool embrace and see what she wanted to see when she dies...

"Pierce?!" a familiar voice cried out.

She froze, suddenly broken from a trance she didn't know she was in. She opened her eyes, immediately blurry from the rain. She brought her head down, rubbed her eyes, and had her hands form a visor around them. Through the drops, she can see a cloaked figure from afar. She couldn't discern any of their details through the water spray.

"What the hell are you doing out there?!"

She scoffed, recognizing who it was from that annoying voice: Declan. She could reply, but she decided not to, crossing her arms defiantly.

She saw him move his head, feeling pride in irritating him as usual. Then he shouted, "This is not the time to be in the ocean! Get out before you drown!"

"O-or what?!" she shouted back. "I think it's th-the perfect time for a swim!" Although she didn't hear it, she knew he grunted angrily.

"I'm serious! Get back here!" There was no reason for her to stay in the ocean now, but she stood still without reply anyway. Waves and currents made it difficult for her to stay put. But she didn't want to give him what he wanted. "Pierce! Get back to shore now!"

When she was going to reply, a chilling gust passed by. She shuddered, suddenly aware of how cold and wet she was. She could feel another wave cascade itself over her shoulders. No matter how much she couldn't stand Declan, she knew she needed to get out the ocean-

Another wave pulled her back and almost shoved her into the water, taking her by surprise. Although she wasn't underwater, it slammed against her ears hard enough to make them ring, muffled. The splash from the movement got into her eyes, the salt searing them. She exclaimed and covered them.

"EVERLEIGH!" she heard her rival shout. She couldn't tell if he was coming to her or not - her eyes blurred with the spray. The ocean pulled her away before she could move forward and attempted another shove.

All of a sudden, her ears filled with saltwater, emphasizing the ringing in her ears. It burned through her nose, then flooded her lungs, making her choke out underwater. She couldn't see or breathe. She couldn't feel any ground beneath her feet, only the water suspending her in its vastness.

Now, she felt trapped in the ocean's embrace, rather than welcomed.

She broke onto the surface to catch her gargled breath, but another wave pushed her back down. She was pulled away, unable to fight back against the current. She couldn't drown now, especially not because she wanted to be petty to Declan. She only thought about how she would die, not wanting to. Was the ocean always this cruel?

What about Lily? How would her best friend feel if she died in a way she shouldn't? What if...

Everleigh felt an arm wrap around her waist, then her body pulled against the current. She couldn't comprehend what was happening - her eyes and nose burned while her ears were full. She stopped feeling the water's hold and felt wet sand beneath her feet. When she tried to breathe, she hacked up water. She heard him say things to her as he bent down to get something and dragged her away. He was probably chastising her for almost drowning, for not getting out of the ocean because of how unsafe it was becoming.

Chastising her was what he always did.

She was sat down somewhere, hunched and no longer feeling the rain. A cloth was wiping her face, so she grabbed it on instinct and continued its job. She coughed, hunching over more as the last remnants of saltwater came out of her mouth and into the handkerchief.

Her mind was finally getting itself back together, now having her realize what was going on. Declan must have brought her back to her grandmother's car after saving her from drowning. She could see that the lights were on and feel the heat of its air-conditioning warming her shivering body before a coat draped over her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat.

How...noble of him.

She finished wiping her face, then drained her ears of water. She sighed in relief when she could hear again. There was a warm hand on her back, making her heart skip another beat when she realized it was Declan's. She looked over at him. He was completely soaked from head to toe, even with his expensive shoes. But when she looked up at his face, it took her by surprise. For a moment, there was genuine worry in his icy-gray eyes, something that was...in all irony, warm.

Then it went away when he removed his hand from her back and narrowed his eyes at her. The warmth was snuffed by coldness when he asked, "Was it worth it?"

And there he is.

She gave him the same narrow look, sniffled, and answered in a strained voice, "I-is that how you always talk to drowning victims, or is it just me?"

He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "Do you think I'm cruel enough to let you die like an idiot?"

She scoffed and coughed. "So it is just me. Not even an 'are you okay?' or 'how are you feeling?'" She then threw the handkerchief at his face. The sound of its slap against him was satisfying. She groaned and looked outside. The rain was getting heavier and the ocean more rowdy. How could it act up just as her rival stepped onto the shore? And speaking of...

"Why are you here?" she asked with annoyed curiosity. She faced him and he refused to meet her eye. Aware of the raincoat he gave her, she pulled it more over herself. "I thought you hate the rain."

"I do."

"So why are you out here?"

Declan sighed. "Tiffany has friends over and I don't wish to deal with them." He paused and shrugged. "Walking through the rain is the better option."

"And that walk led you to the beach?"

"Where else could it? There's nowhere else to go in this type of weather." He still didn't turn his head to face her, but he finally met her gaze through their reflections in the window. "Why were you out there, Pierce?"

"To get inspiration," she lied in a steady tone, just like Lily would.

He sighed with a mirthless grin. "For your poetry?"

She shrugged. "What else?"

"And you were willing to die for it?"

She scoffed again. "Get out of my car if all you're going to do is make fun of me for a near-death experience."

He lost his grin. "I'm not making fun of you, I'm just asking."

"Sure you were," she muttered under her breath. She then raised her voice to tell him, "Well, thanks for saving me anyway. Wished Fabian did so instead."

He was immediately furious at the mention of their classmate. "You would have drowned with him if he tried," he replied in a voice that could cut. "You're lucky I can swim." His tone gave her pause, having never heard him like that before.

A tense silence roamed between them for a few moments. Although Everleigh was warm now, she still felt unwell. Her breathing was slow and heavy, no thanks to the lingering salt of the ocean. Then she sneezed, which broke the silence. It made Declan finally turn to her and assess her appearance. She knew that she looked like a wet blanket that was just air-drying. She rubbed her eyes, which were getting itchier.

"You're getting sick," he stated in a solemn tone, with a subtle hint of worry. He looked down at her feet. "And you're starting to bleed too." She looked down, seeing the cuts and scrapes of her feet. She gasped and lifted them while he sighed and asked, "Does this car have first-aid?"

Instead of answering, she opened the glove compartment. He was quick to get the kit from there, close it, and open it on the dashboard. "Move your feet here," he ordered, pointing at his lap. She narrowed her gaze at him, which made him roll his eyes. "What's that look for? I can't heal you when I can't reach your cuts." He then smirked. "Are you worried I'll give you a sudden foot massage and make things weird?"

She clicked her tongue and maneuvered herself as carefully as she could to lay her legs across to his lap. She made sure her dress didn't shift up from the action. "You're making it weird…" she mumbled.

He immediately went to tending her small wounds, stopping the bleeding with a piece of cloth. While solely focused on his new duty, he asked, "Why didn't you bring a jacket?"

She shrugged and held one of her braids, already getting dry and frizzy. "I didn't want to wear it."

He sighed, annoyed and disappointed. "Why am I not surprised...?" she heard him mutter under his breath. She scowled at him, but decided not to call him out on it. She sniffled and felt her head starting to ache. When she placed a hand on her head, he went to cleaning the wound. She flinched and flattened her lips with each sting.

She glanced at the flooring of the car, seeing a few drops of blood on the beige fabric. Her muscles tensed at the sight, her thoughts put in a panic. Could that wash off? This car was her grandmother's prized possession, something she bought for herself with all her hard work. She always kept it as spotless and clean as possible. Everleigh promised that she'd keep it that way when she was gifted it on her 15th birthday. There was also the fact that she and Declan were dripping on the seats before. Then she spotted the keys that were still in the ignition. Her eyes widened, realizing she forgot them there. Her heart suddenly started to squeeze itself painfully.

Her car could've been stolen. The blood may never come off the passenger's flooring. The dampness of the seats may ruin their texture.

All she wanted to do was go through a simple hypothesis…it was all she wanted to do. Instead, she almost died and messed up this expensive car.

"Pierce," Declan said, shaking her shoulder. Her panicked thoughts came to a screeching halt before she looked up at him. Now her rival seemed genuinely worried about her, shockingly. "Are you alright?"

She swallowed and looked out the windshield, seeing that the rain she loved became a storm. "I'm fine," she lied, though she failed to make it sound convincing this time. The lightning made her flinch before the thunder rolled.

He raised a brow with a skeptical look. "You looked like you were seeing a ghost, so excuse me if I don't believe you."

She sighed, rubbing one eye as she thought about her parents. Though they were always out of the house, they also paid special attention to everything, including this car…

"My parents don't know that I'm out." He raised his brows with concern. "This car could've been stolen because I left the keys in the ignition and I would've drowned. And even if I didn't, if I come back home with it looking like this, with me looking like this..." She looked at her reflection in the window. Her dark-brown eyes were surrounded by pink, her nose was turning red, her braids were a matted mess, and her dress was very wrinkly. Her heart tightened like it wanted to collapse in itself. She sneezed again, sniffled, flattened her lips, and hugged herself. "...I don't know. I'm just rambling." She sighed and closed her swollen eyes. "Why am I even telling you all of this...?"

Silence made its return between the two teens while Everleigh slowly shrunk into itself. She knew she'd be punished because she got out past curfew, got herself sick, and ruined the car. They trusted her and she betrayed that trust. She doubted they'd be as lenient with their punishment as much as Lily's parents, and the Fairchilds were far from kind to their daughter. She knew this meant that at best, she'd rarely see her best friend again...

"I can sneak you into my house and let you rest there," Declan suggested after applying the antibiotic. What he said shattered her internal thoughts.

"What?"

He put band-aids on every cut and scrape as he explained, "Our parents won't be home until it's really late, so you can stay over if you'll keep a low profile. You can sleep in my room; it's got a window alcove with a bed you can rest in. You'll call your parents and say you're sleeping over with Lily or studying with me and Tiffany, whatever you can come up with. And you can use my personal bathroom, but only to wash yourself off. I'll park your car in one of our garages and get my sister's clothes from the laundry for you to wear while I wash your clothes."

Everleigh was stunned at the offer, especially from someone like Declan. It made her forget the other bolt of lightning, then the thunder made her conscious of her mind. She didn't know where to start, how to begin. Conflicting thoughts ran through it before one emerged above the rest...

She looked straight into his eyes and stated, "I need to get the proper shampoo and conditioner for my hair...and a bonnet."

He smirked and closed the kit once he finished. "Sure, but this will be the first and last time I give you something you want, Pierce." She smirked back, happy to accept his invitation. "Can't drive with your bloodied feet on my lap though."

She grinned and thought about raising them to his face. She instead moved herself to get them back on the floor and buckled up as he turned the engine on and drove away with her. Sleeping over at Declan's was certainly not how she wanted this escapade to end…

Everleigh played the harp at Lily's funeral.

It was cloudy, but not raining, which meant that she could play it for her late best friend. The Fairchilds insisted...and Lily would have wanted her to play it when her time came.

She played as practiced during the ceremony. Solemn holy hymns played during the religious service, emphasizing the somberness that acted as the rain. Her heart felt heavy, ready to drop to her stomach. Yet despite the pain of Lily's loss and this service, Everleigh managed to keep herself together. She only allowed one tear to stream down her cheek as she continued playing.

She didn't even see her best friend's body personally. She couldn't bear it, stomach it.

After trudging through the reception at the Fairchild's side, her parents drove her home. Everything went according to plan and there were no mishaps or problems at the funeral.

So why did she start crying from the second she laid on her bed?

The evening rain accompanied her sobs, drops flowing down the window like the tears on her cheeks. Her lungs and throat ached, her body curled in a fetal position. But it didn't matter to Everleigh.

Lily Fairchild, her very best friend, was dead.

The pain was too outstanding for her to bottle in. Everything from the night of her death all the way to now came crashing down on her like the waves on the beach.

And it was not just that, but Lily herself was an enigma.

They were best friends, and there were times when they were not. Lily understood Everleigh more than most, despite their different social statuses, and there were times when she didn't. She cared for her more than her own family, and there were times when it looked like she didn't. Everleigh didn't know what she would do without Lily, and Lily didn't know what she would do without Everleigh.

So why did she do that?

Why did she do many of the things she did? She was both brave and cowardly. Poetic and nonsensical. Well-meaning and selfish. Caring and possessive. She was a paradox, and a human being.

Everleigh's pain conflicted with her thoughts of Lily, finally driving her mind to a standstill.

She laid still, staring at the ceiling with her puffy eyes. Her heart was pounding from all the crying and moving around. She was no longer curled up, but everything else still ached. She didn't care though. She just felt...nothing right now: a numb nothingness.

It was better than feeling pain and confusion.

Then she suddenly realized that she was laying like a corpse for what felt like a while. She couldn't even feel herself for that time. Was it a long time? Or just a minute ago? She wasn't sure...it almost scared her.

She sighed and sat up, looking back to see her pillows wrinkled and stained by her tears. She sighed and flipped them around. She shouldn't think about her best friend anymore...it wasn't worth it. Everything was done, all according to everyone's plan...it was time to move on.

Everleigh grabbed her phone and decided to scroll on social media until she felt tired. She tried to look at meaningless celebrity gossip, avoiding anything local.

Then one of her favorite songs started playing in the back of her head:

It gave her pause.

It was sparkling auditory melancholy, something that perfectly encapsulated the feeling of the Fairchilds...of Lily.

She can't think of Lily anymore. Everything had been said and done.

But for some reason, the song just kept playing, like a sort of haunted record. She didn't know what to do, so she decided to just let it play in her mind until it stopped.

She put her phone on her drawer and stood up to kill the lights. After that, she went to the window to close the curtains just as she remembered the song's hidden track. Its dark lo-fi piano was fitting for the somber weather.

Then she heard the vocals:

"Clouds part... She's rolling down the water, But it always rains."

Everleigh froze. That didn't sound like Victoria Legrand's.

Her vocals were included in the track's low fidelity. It was lower and solemn. But these vocals were clear, a hard contrast to the instrumental. They were higher, younger, but just as haunting.

...like Lily's.

What was happening?

"I will haunt you, for the rest of your life..."

The teen felt a sudden chill course through her entire body. She turned around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was no one. She was still alone. Her heart skipped a beat, anxious. She sighed and grabbed the curtains to close them-

"In your lace, were you lazy? Always counting numbers down."

Something wasn't right - maybe it was her mind misremembering Victoria's vocals. It has to be. But her body shook, as if there was something more...sinister at play. There couldn't be though-

"She's rolling down the window, But it always rains."

She finally closed the curtains and stormed to her bed to go to sleep, but then there was a draft that came by.

...how was there a draft when all her windows were closed?

She turned around and suddenly, that window and its curtains were opened, letting in the rain and cool breeze. Shock stilled her body. How-

"I will haunt you-"

Those vocals sounded so close to her ear. She flinched, yelped, and turned around. Still nobody.

"-for the rest of your life."

She must be going crazy. She had to be. But then how did the window and curtains open? It didn't matter. She got to them and closed both. But then another pair opened, making her groan and grab her head in frustration. She was going crazy, she was.

When she turned towards their direction, she thought her heart stopped dead.

Familiar red waves were blown in the wind. Pale skin was made more so, looking more dead than alive. A familiar lace dress made her blood run cold.

"Spending money, acting funny. Get yourselves in the autumn..."

She was singing...just as she had sung before.

Everleigh was losing her mind, she knew she was. She knew that couldn't be Lily singing this song in her room.

She was dead.

She was buried.

She was not here.

"She's rolling down the window, But it's always raining."

She needed to close that window and curtain.

She needed to close that window and curtain.

...she needed to close that window and curtain...

So she scrambled towards them to do so.

"But it's always raining."

Another chill froze her body, something the wind couldn't even do. She shut her eyes and shuddered, then opened them.

Lily's ethereal corpse was before her eyes, smiling. It horrified Everleigh like never before.

"I will haunt you, for the rest of your life..."

She hyperventilated, her heart pounding against her ribs and her throat dry. She kept thinking that she was going crazy, that this wasn't real, that this was some sort of trauma taunting her, driving her insane, making her frenzied, that...

That...

Things suddenly went dark, but not before she heard the haunting final line:

It was supposed to be 15 pages only… not 40 pages turned into 30 😂😂😂

Anyway, happy Sunday and enjoy this little cute slightly depressing treat from me 😚💚💚💚

Characters: Audrey, Raphael, Mikael, Cassiel, Felonia, and David

Trigger Warning: none

Rating: T

SHAKESPEARE'S CODE

The Witch & The Inquisitor by @reneedenoailles |🎨| Amabelle Norfolk x Abraham Darnby | TW: suggestive content | T

Black Widow by @reneedenoailles |🎨| Amabell Norfolk, Edward Pembroke, Ralph Suffolk, Abraham Darnby, Hobello | TW: flash, murder, blood | M

HEAVEN'S SECRET

Revelations of Divine Love by @waiting4sunrise |🖊️| OC x Eragon | G

LEGEND OF THE WILLOW

Mei Hattori by @ladylamrian-archive |👤| Mei Hattori | G

SHADOWS OF SAINTFOUR 2: TIMELESS

Jealousy by @isazmelt |🎨🏳️‍🌈| Nadine Ross x Penelope 'Poppy' Emerson | G

THE THUNDERSTORMS SAGA

Love, Shadow and Catastrophe After the Wedding Banquet by @masamunewaifu |🎨| Tiss ey Vedtree x Tai ey Eini Lono Wed Vain Firkain | TW: flashing visuals, implied violence, sexual imagery and poisoning/drugging themes | M

HEAVEN'S SECRET: REQUIEM

Tomorrow Never Came by @dmitryan |🎨🏳️‍🌈| Dmitry Lloyd x Yan | TW: flickering lights, cigarettes | T

Losing You by @dmitryan |🎨| Lane | TW: flickering lights | G

HEAVEN'S SECRET 3: ETERNITY'S END

To Caress by @blatantliez |🎨| Audrey x Cassiel | G

WATERLILY

Fabian Reyes Aesthetic by @de4thstar |🎨| Fabian Reyes | T