blood orange sky (bwwm horror)

tradition

As the cabin settled into the stillness of the night, the soft crackle of the dying fire filled the space, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Calliope lay curled up in the bed, her breathing steady and soft, a serene expression gracing her features. The quilt draped over her was a stark contrast to the rustic simplicity of the cabin, wrapping her in warmth and comfort.

Lucas, unable to sleep, propped himself up on one elbow, gazing at her in the dim light. He watched as the shadows danced on her face, accentuating the delicate curve of her cheek and the way her curly hair framed her head. There was something disarming about her; she looked so peaceful, so utterly at ease in a place that still felt foreign to him.

He couldn't help but reflect on the night's events. Calliope was different from anyone he'd encountered before. She had talked to him easily, joking and laughing as if they had known each other for years. It was refreshing and unsettling all at once. No woman had ever spoken to him with such warmth and openness, and he found himself captivated by her energy.

The realization hit him then, a quiet moment of clarity amidst the quiet of the night. She was the first woman to engage him so freely, the first to treat him as if he were more than just a shadow in the woods. His heart quickened at the thought, a strange mix of appreciation and possessiveness stirring within him.

As he lay there, he traced the outline of her form beneath the blanket with his eyes, thinking about how her laughter echoed in the stillness. The sound lingered in the air, a memory he wanted to hold onto, even as the shadows deepened around them. He could hardly comprehend what it was about her that pulled him in, but he felt an undeniable connection forming, something tethering him to her in a way he hadn't anticipated.

With a sigh, he shifted back, trying to find some semblance of sleep. But as he closed his eyes, the image of her sleeping face remained, and he couldn't shake the feeling that this night marked something significant, a moment he might look back on as a turning point in his life. The darkness of the woods outside felt heavy and oppressive, but within the walls of his cabin, there was a warmth that was entirely new—a flicker of light that promised something more.

He could hear her soft murmurs in her sleep, and it sent a rush of emotions through him. There was something unsettling yet exhilarating about it, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, they were both at the start of something they couldn't yet name.

The early morning light crept through the gaps in the cabin walls, casting slanted beams of gold that pierced the lingering shadows of night. Lucas lay awake, thoughts swirling like the fog outside. Calliope's presence beside him was a balm, but as he watched her sleep, a deep-seated dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

He couldn't shake the feeling that she would leave him, just like everyone else had. The thought gripped him with a chilling intensity; he didn't want to be alone again. The silence of the woods had been a comfortable companion until now, but the prospect of returning to that solitude after having tasted her warmth was unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, Lucas turned away from her, trying to push the anxious thoughts aside. Yet, the more he contemplated, the more he felt the weight of his fear. Calliope was too vibrant, too full of life to stay in one place for long. She was a wanderer at heart, and as he had already witnessed, she had her own path to follow. He felt a surge of desperation; he needed her to stay, to fill the void that had long haunted him.

Determined to keep her occupied, he decided that chores would keep her here a little longer. The morning air was crisp, and the forest hummed with life, but he would be damned if he let her slip away unnoticed.

"Hey, Callie," he said, his voice low as he nudged her shoulder gently. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"Morning," she mumbled, still half-asleep.