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[color=purple][b]Location:[/b][/color] Noah’s bedroom 
[color=purple][b]Time:[/b][/color] Dusk
[color=purple][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] [@helo] Noah
[color=purple][b]Mentions:[/b][/color]
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Wren sat cross-legged on the blood-soaked bed, idly twirling a lock of her hair around one finger, humming to herself as she traced lazy patterns in the red-stained sheets. The corpse beside her had started to stiffen, but she paid it no mind—her gaze was fixed on her phone, waiting, waiting.

The device chimed softly in her hand.

Her eyes lit up.

She unlocked the screen with a swipe, and there it was: a message from Noah.

Finished work
Headed home
Eye can’t wait to see you

And beneath the words…

A photo.

Noah, bathed in the glow of flames, a burning figure crumpled in the background, fire curling around a chair like grasping hands. Noah stood in the center of the carnage, blood on his face, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and in his hands—two perfect severed eyes, gleaming pale against his stained fingers.

Wren let out a soft, breathless sigh.

[color=purple]“Oh…”[/color] she whispered, a smile blooming across her face.

She hugged the phone tight against her chest, pressing it close as though she could feel his warmth through the screen. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she rocked gently back and forth, heart fluttering in her ribs.

[color=purple]“He’s so thoughtful,”[/color] she murmured dreamily. [color=purple]“He always remembers the little things.”[/color]

She peeked back down at the photo, admiring the artistry, the firelight, the way he held the eyes like precious jewels. Her fingers brushed the screen tenderly, tracing his face.

[hr]

Wren looked up as the door opened, her expression lighting instantly with joy.

[color=purple]“Noah!”[/color] she breathed, delighted. She was curled up comfortably in the middle of the blood-soaked bed, knees hugged to her chest, her chin resting atop them like a cat waiting for its master.

Around her, the sheets were drenched, sticky with half-dried blood; the body lay sprawled beside her, arranged lovingly, a cloth napkin draped over its chest, a silver tray perched across its stomach. The tray held a chipped teacup filled with blood, a butter knife stabbed into a heart like a soft-boiled egg, and a little plate where a human tongue sat coiled like a sausage.

She pouted, genuine sadness pulling at the corners of her lips.

[color=purple]“You’re late,”[/color] she murmured, voice low and sweet. [color=purple]“I made you breakfast in bed.”[/color]

She unfolded herself slowly, stretching like a waking creature, her white nightgown clinging in places where blood had dried, stained to a dusky rose. She stepped down from the bed, leaving delicate red footprints across the pale floor, padding barefoot toward him.

[color=purple]“It’s gone cold now,”[/color] she sighed, brushing a sticky lock of hair behind her ear. Her smile flickered back, small and hopeful. [color=purple]“It’s gone cold now.”[/color]

She stopped in front of him, tilting her head, eyes shining with affection and something darker beneath. Gently, she reached up and wiped a smear of blood from his jaw with her thumb, smudging it rather than cleaning it.

[color=purple]“I thought of you while I carved him up,”[/color] she whispered. [color=purple]“Every slice.”[/color]

Her thumb traced down his chin, then she dropped her hand, stepping back, gesturing to the bed like a proud puppy.

[color=purple]“He told me such awful little secrets before he died.”[/color] She laughed softly, a breathy sound. [color=purple]“I almost saved him for dinner, but no—you deserve the first taste.”[/color]

Her gaze softened, a flicker of vulnerability in it.

[color=purple]“I wanted it to be perfect…”[/color] she whispered softly

She stood there, barefoot, bloodied, a creature of quiet chaos, looking at him with the innocent longing of someone who just wanted to make their owner proud.[/color]