chamomile, rose water, and other unlikely intoxicants (8/?)

callmearcturus:

You look up at last. The Crown makes your neck ache a little, but it won’t be for long.

A silence stretches. You wait it out.

Finally: “YOU AGAIN.”

It’s sound without origin, coming from every inky spot of blackness around you. You nod, and show your teeth. “Me again.”

blood and frost