#vivecaint

[gloriouswhispers]

their home viveca & erik @dxrkenedheights

'look at this, älskling.' viveca's voice is smooth and quick as she slips into erik's office without so much as a knock. in her hands is a small wooden box, aged and heavy with detail. it's carved with intertwining knotwork and worn figures, and even just holding it, there's a hum. old magic, faint but with a crackle under her fingertips. 'i forgot i kept some things from visby.' she adds, almost offhandedly.

this kind of moment happens often in their home. viveca gets the urge to sort through everything. rearrange furniture, redecorate entire rooms, purge what no longer belongs. erik always lets her. she loves him for that. and somehow, he always knows when it's coming, too. and this time? long overdue. of course, viveca knows herself well, too. it's never really about being bored with the color palette. it's distraction. focus.

she's already at his desk now, setting the box down gently before lifting the lid. inside, there's a small collection of relics. old hair pins etched in runes, a folded letter, a worn cloth pouch, a hand carved wooden charm shaped like a boar. but her fingers reach for none of them. only a torn, brittle scrap of paper. she unfolds it, angling it toward erik. 'i think this is old gutnish, at first glance. maybe a spell.' she murmurs, eyes scanning the faded script before meeting his. there's a flicker of something in her gaze. not quite concern, not even worry. more curiosity mixing with reality. 'erik, i did not put this in here.' she smiles slightly, for the irony of the situation. 'i have never seen this before.'

[gloriouswhispers]

asphodel viveca & felix @manybcdthings

viveca steps into the courtyard, one hand already digging through her purse. she doesn't need to look up to know he's there. felix has that kind of gravity, like the atmosphere shifts around him. maybe it follows him. maybe he drags it behind him like a storm cloud. either way, she feels it before she sees him, and it draws the faintest smirk to her lips as her fingers close around the familiar shape of her cigarette case. 'don't tell your father.' she mutters, quiet as the words are punctuated by the flick of her lighter. she doesn't slow her stride as she moves, and she doesn't ask if he minds her company. there are a thousand things she could say. how are you? how are you holding up? please, let me do something. but those thoughts get caught somewhere between her throat and her pride, never quite reaching the surface. instead, the way she eases herself onto the ledge beside him says all the things she doesn't.

'have you eaten today?' vivi then asks, the question rolling off her tongue as her eyes scan over her son quickly. she sounds clinical, almost. but there's something buried beneath it. a flicker of concern too sharp to be softened by tone. but, she doesn't wait for the answer. the cigarette's already between her lips, the inhale steady. 'i had the most ghastly dream.' she says, like it's the most natural segue in the world. 'i meant to tell you at dinner the other night, but you weren't exactly…' a pause, eyes narrowing slightly as she finds the word. 'receptive to the world.'

viveca doesn't dwell on the comment, or how she throws it out there as if she wants it to land. her story is already unfolding. 'you were covered in tattoos. absolutely everywhere.' her fingers trace along her temple, then down her neck. 'it was dreadful. you looked like a receipt someone had scribbled on in a rush and shoved into their pocket.' a soft hum follows, low and thoughtful, as her eyes drift across the courtyard like she might find the meaning in the shadows there. 'i haven't figured out what it meant.' vivi murmurs, almost to herself. 'if it meant anything at all.'