𝙁𝙊𝙊𝙇'𝙎 𝙂𝙊𝙇𝘿.

calamint - . 01

CALAMINT, or Calamintha, is a genus of plants belonging to the Lamiaceae family. Calamint grows in fragrant clusters, with colors ranging from soft white to vibrant purple. A low-maintenance species, this herb is commonly used to soothe sorrow and promote recovery from emotional pains. It is known to increase joy and prompt a brighter outlook on life, making it the perfect herb to use in assisting yourself or a friend to overcome inner turmoil.

˗ˏˋ ♙ . ♟ . ♙ 'ˎ˗

     EVREUX ABBATIELLO is, and was, a shameful man. Since birth he's been a shapeshifter by nature, a pushover by habit. Evreux is a shameful man, very much so - a petty liar, desperately seeking the approval of others. Yes truly means no, and no truly means yes. Strenuous tasks are not much of a task at all, and being needed is perhaps the only delight in such a cruel, bitter world. Evreux is compliant. He is patient, understanding, and cooperative - perfectly fragile, yet oddly full of strength. In addition, Evreux is deviously intelligent, with a fantastic memory.

     Evreux knew how he died - he knew why and where, as well as what item he was attached to. He knew why he appeared in your attic, and yet, when faced with those features of yours contorted into shock and fear, he couldn't bring himself to tell you the truth of the matter. Feign ignorance, begged his conscience. Evreux Abbatiello has always been a pushover, and so, he did as such with little struggle.

     You were easy to convince.

     He allowed tears to slip past, breaking the border of his eyes and cascading down reddening cheeks. Hiccups conveniently placed, with shaking hands to obscure delicate features, it was simply habited to gain your favor. "I cannot remember" became his mantra, with you slowly becoming his metaphorical lifeline.

     Evreux was cold - so very cold. His hands were numb upon his awakening, and he swore he could see his own breath (the very same breath he no longer needed). You were his antithesis. Warmth seeped through your skin graciously, and he found himself willing his physicality just to allow your hug to grace him. You coddled him; told him everything would be alright, and that you would take care of him.

     For once, he appreciated being such a shameful creature.

     Soon questions became much like a flurry of snow in winter, plentiful and steadfast. He paid no mind, repeating his mantra as frequently as possible while drinking your warmth. The pair of you had found yourselves in the dining room, sitting at a wooden table while your caretaker was away. You truly were too kind - hand holding his, gaze heavy with concern and purity. Too addictive, he thought.

     Evreux Abbatiello is a shameful man, but a man seeking love all the same.

    Past loves were scarce - full of deceit, cruelty, and unfair advantages.

     Your love was pure; affectionate, kindhearted, dutiful, and nothing like he had experienced before.

     An addict, he mused, was what he would shortly become. Even if he could sense your subtle hesitance, he didn't allow it to bother him. It was understandable, and completely so, enough that he could ignore the way your inflection would differ with certain questions. He told you his name, asking for yours quietly. [y/n] [l/n], he would soon find. A lovely name. Nonetheless, questions soon halted as he gave you all that he could - a man greeted with death at the tender age of eighteen, left with little other than his name and favorite things (of which you would discover he quite enjoyed literature, classical music, and cooking).

     Evreux Abbatiello was a shameful man, but he vowed to become a man shameful for your favor alone - no longer would he allow others to rule him, after all, only someone as pure as you was worthy of such a thing.