Work Text:
Back in Peace Valley, starlight and night magic fell over the town and Watcher Woods. A single candle burned brightly in the long deserted cabin that Twiggy called home. The interior and decor match the century in which she died.
The eerie candlelight flickered shadows on the walls. She pulled out an old leather book full of discolored pages. She dipped her raven quill into the ink bottle and began writing in lovely cursive.
"As I sit here, quill in hand, the ink flows as steady as my thoughts. The parchment is rough beneath my fingers, yet it feels like home. I didn’t need much tonight. Just a quiet place to let my mind wander.
That tea shop—it wasn’t what I expected. There is too much light and too much noise in its own way. But when Desiree and I got there, it wasn’t the shop that mattered. It was us. We found our way into it and made it feel right.
I wasn’t expecting to feel comfortable, but there was something about how we moved together, how the space shifted to fit us. Maybe there’s a lesson in that, something about how even chaos can settle when you’re with the right person.
I think about how I hugged Desiree before we parted. She’s become more than just a fleeting presence in my life. A friend, in a way that doesn’t feel like it has to be explained.
I’m looking forward to her next visit and seeing her world, though I suspect it’ll be too bright for my tastes. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to make it my own, just as we did tonight.
For now, I let the quill rest. The world is quiet here, and that’s all I need tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll think more about the future. For now, the night is mine."
She then placed her quill down and blew out the candle before falling asleep with a content smile.