#casper 03.

“When was the last time we got to do this?” She is even smaller without her heels on and if it weren’t a matter of pride, if they’d been in the company of their own place, she might have stood on his feet. Instead she’s practically leaning against him, her arms around his neck. They haven’t had a single moment’s peace since they’d set foot on Roman soil and if it had to take being whisked to the Otherworld to get some time together, maybe it wasn’t so bad. “Your mom’s birthday maybe. In the backyard.” She could still picture it, the lights strung up around the dancefloor, the green dress she’d worn. “It’s like something out of a dream.” She looks up at him, her mask tipped back enough on her forehead to expose her face and the sight of highlighted cheekbones makes her smile. @caspermhahn​

“That is so sad that her family did that to her. It was not her fault. I do not blame her in the slightest.” Frowning, she turns her head to look at him on the couch beside her. His home is odd, but in an almost comforting way, it’s something she doesn’t quite understand. There’s odd things, stuff she thinks she’d find more at home in a witch’s house, an herb shop even. It sort of makes her feel at home though, like the place is some kind of extension of the woods. Before them, the credits to the film they’d been watching roll. “Is there more like that? Films about witches?” @casperhahn​