starryhaze28
The kneeling girl turns her head, just slightly, just enough that Louis can see her face in profile. His eyes narrow, zooming in as far as the lens allows. She hesitates, the smallest flinch in the way her hand falters in the other's grip, like something inside her is pulling away from the ritual.
Louis swallows, lowering the camera for half a second to blink, because what he sees can't be right.
Not the white, glazed eyes like the others. Not vacant or empty. But sharp, alive, green.
Striking green.
His breath stutters. He knows those eyes. He's traced every shade of them in memory, dreamed of them, stared too long across teacups and candlelight.
or, the one where Louis arrives in a small town to photograph the Hare Girls, for his new series about the uncanny. What he doesn't anticipate, is being pulled into the town's mysteries, and into the orbit of Harry, the sweet tea room owner who seems to be connected to it all.