blood orange sky (bwwm horror)

dandelion white

Calliope paced in the cramped living room, her mind a turbulent storm of anger and disgust. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she tried to steady herself, breathing deeply to calm the whirlpool of emotions threatening to swallow her whole. When she heard the door creak open, she looked up to see Lucas stepping inside, a smug look on his face as he held a bundle under his arm.

He walked over to the old chest at the foot of the bed, carefully unwrapping the bundle and placing it on top. Calliope's curiosity flared despite herself, but as he unfolded the fabric, her expression twisted with revulsion. It was a wedding dress—a plain, worn thing, yellowed with age, its lace fraying, and with faint stains she didn't even want to think about. It looked like something dragged out of a forgotten attic, something that should have been discarded years ago.

Lucas's gaze fixed on her, a possessive glint in his eyes. "Spent some of  the money from your car on this," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Wanted to get you something fitting for our wedding."

She froze, disbelief and fury flooding her veins. "You sold my car—" she began, her voice trembling. "You took my car, and this is what you spent it on? An ugly, filthy piece of—"

He cut her off, his expression hardening. "Watch your mouth," he warned, his tone laced with danger.

The words spilled out of her before she could stop them. "I don't want this! You can't just decide that for me! I don't want anything to do with this sick fantasy of yours!"

She saw his jaw tighten, his eyes narrowing as he took a slow, measured step closer to her. "You're going to shut up and listen now, Callie," he said, his voice low, each word dripping with menace. "You belong to me. And that means you don't get to decide how things go. Not now, not ever."

"Get it through your head," he continued, voice icy. "You don't get to refuse me. Not anything."

Calliope's fists clenched, anger flashing in her eyes. "You can't just take my life and mold it into whatever you want. This... this thing isn't a wedding dress."

But Lucas only smirked, the corner of his mouth twisting upward as he leaned in close, his breath hot on her skin. "I think it fits you."

She shuddered, a mix of rage and helplessness bubbling up inside her. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to resist, but his cold, unyielding stare was like a wall, pressing down on her, suffocating her. He lifted the dress, holding it out to her, forcing her to look at it once more.

"You'll put this on when I tell you," he said, his voice a dark, unsettling calm. "And you'll do it with a smile."

Calliope's chest heaved, and she let out a low, anguished scream, the pent-up frustration and fear tearing free from her throat. "I'll never wear that! I'll never let you—"

Lucas's hand shot out, gripping her arm with bruising force as he jerked her closer, his eyes blazing with fury. "Shut up," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "You don't get a say. I own you now, and you'd better remember that."

He let her go abruptly, shoving the dress into her arms, watching with a cold satisfaction as she stumbled back. Her eyes filled with hot, angry tears as she looked down at the dress, the weight of it feeling like chains, heavy and suffocating. She bit down on her lip, tasting blood, every part of her recoiling from the reality he was forcing upon her.

———

The cabin felt like a cage. Calliope had locked herself in the small, dim bathroom, the door pushed shut with the weight of her body as she sank to the floor, the old white dress clinging to her skin like a shroud. The fabric was itchy, its rough texture scraping against her arms as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her eyes were red, and tears streaked down her face, leaving behind wet paths on her cheeks.