Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
It’s been so long, you’ve forgotten to expect it. And yet, there it is: a dusty, faded flower, sitting pretty on your doorstep. The thing’s face is withered, nearly gray instead of purple, and a simpler you could write that off as the cause of your delay in recognition if the thing wasn’t so distinctive, and that makes it denial, and isn’t that so much worse?
A little necklace adorns the thing; thin string punched through cream-colored paper, the corners folded just-so. A wax seal you might recognize, but coordinates you don’t, at least not from here, so you lean in for a closer look. You pick up the flower, and something in your mind whitens. The fuzz of the stem prickles at your thumb, just like so many kisses, and that- that is when his voice comes up, dread-warmth in your ear.
“For bonny sweet Robin is all of my joy.”
///
Or, what happens when a demon of Eliot's past refuses to be outrun.