blood orange sky (bwwm horror)

venus as a boy

Calliope found herself alone in the small, dimly lit bathroom of the cabin. The cold tile floor sent a chill up her spine as she stood there, staring blankly into the mirror. Her reflection looked tired, weighed down by months of tension and uncertainty. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, and her mind raced as she replayed the events of the past few weeks over and over.

She didn't want to think about it. She'd pushed it to the back of her mind, hoping it was just stress, the isolation, the endless string of emotions she was constantly suppressing. But now, as she stood there, the realization hit her like a wave crashing against the shore.

She hadn't had her period. Not last month. Not this month.

Her stomach twisted in knots, and a cold sweat broke out on her skin. Her heart raced as she did the math again in her head, counting the days, trying to convince herself she was wrong. But no matter how she tried to rationalize it, the truth settled in her bones like a heavy weight.

Two months. She hadn't bled in two months.

Calliope's hands began to tremble, the thought of pregnancy sending a shock of fear through her. She sank down onto the edge of the bathtub, pressing her hands to her face, trying to steady her breath.

"No, please... no," she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible in the silence of the room.

She couldn't be pregnant. Not now. Not with everything so uncertain, so wrong. Her life with Lucas already felt like a prison, each day more suffocating than the last. A baby would only tighten the chains, binding her to this life in a way she wasn't ready for, in a way she wasn't sure she could survive.

Calliope squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the fear, trying to block out the gnawing dread that had been building inside her for weeks. She wasn't ready to be a mother. Not here, not like this.

She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away angrily. She couldn't afford to fall apart, not now. But the fear was too great, the possibility too overwhelming to ignore. She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat.

Please, God, she thought, gripping the edge of the tub as though it could anchor her. Please don't let me be pregnant.

The silent prayer echoed in her mind, a desperate plea for mercy, for some kind of escape from the future that loomed over her. She could only hope that this was some sort of cruel mistake, that tomorrow she would wake up and realize it had all been in her head. But deep down, she knew the truth was already settling in, and it terrified her.

Tears fell silently, the weight of her fear pressing down harder with every second. She wasn't ready to face what might come next. Not here. Not with Lucas.

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The next night, Calliope moved carefully through the small bedroom, the dim light of the bedside lamp casting shadows along the cabin's rough wooden walls. Lucas was still outside, probably finishing some work or tending to the fire. The evening air was cool, and as it wafted through the slightly cracked window, it sent a chill over her skin. Her nerves were raw, fraying with every passing day.

She knew what Lucas would expect tonight. The thought of it made her stomach turn. After weeks of his possessive touches and the looming dread that her missed periods might be a sign of something she wasn't ready to face, Calliope couldn't bring herself to let him close.

So, she made a decision. As she stood in front of the small dresser, she pulled out an extra layer of clothing—a pair of old leggings, worn but thick enough to give her a sense of protection. She slid them on under her sweatpants, then added a second tank top beneath her long-sleeved shirt. Her hands shook slightly as she worked, layering herself in garments like armor, one piece at a time.