#wolfgang watson

[hecate-black]

Hecate lingered near the edge of the ballroom, champagne untouched in her hand, glitter and chandeliers doing entirely too much for her taste. When she spotted Wolfgang—looking about as thrilled to be there as a ghost at a daylight picnic—her mouth curved into a familiar, wicked smile. “Of all the places I expected to find you tonight, Town Hall wasn’t high on the list,” she said, stepping up beside him, eyes flicking toward the massive clock counting down the year. “Let me guess—you lost a bet, or someone decided the cemetery aesthetic needed an upgrade?” She clinked her glass lightly against his. “Still… if the world’s ending at midnight, I can’t think of a better person to stand next to.” @fairywilds

[azariahmiles]

The cemetery was quiet tonight. Not the eerie, hollow kind of quiet that sent shivers up a person’s spine, but the kind that settled deep in the bones; heavy, familiar, almost comforting. Azariah had never minded the silence. It gave her space to think, to breathe, to exist without the weight of the living pressing in on her. She leaned against the wrought-iron fence, her sharp gaze following the slow, methodical movements of Wolfgang as he worked. “You ever get tired of digging holes for the dead?” she mused, her voice carrying easily through the crisp night air. “Or is there something oddly peaceful about it?” Her lips curled into a half-smirk as she tilted her head, studying him with open curiosity. “Either way, you’ve got the most consistent company in town," she paused. “Guess that makes two of us.” @fairywilds