Vincent/Vaelthor~
I paced the edge of Kat's room like a caged shadow, every muscle coiled tight, my senses drinking in every flicker of sound beyond the door. The nice scent coming from the candles burning low on her dresser should have been calming, but instead the scent tangled with something sharper—an edge of worry that clung to the air like smoke.
Winter sat cross-legged on the floor, her pale hair spilling forward as her fingers danced with invisible threads of nightmare energy, weaving them in and out like a loom only she and I could see. She looked serene, but I knew the trick—it was her way of keeping her own storm chained.
Nick leaned against the bedpost, lazy and deliberate, black hair tousled as though the night itself had raked its fingers through it. His smirk was cocky, sharp, but I caught the flicker beneath it—an ember of softness he kept hidden like contraband.
