About

The hallway smells different tonight. Something warm and close, like cedar and skin, seeping under Riven's door. You've been noticing the silence for days — no footsteps, no morning coffee sounds, no soft music through the shared wall. Just stillness, then last night, not stillness at all. You knock. Once. Twice. The door swings open before you can knock a third time. Riven stands there — ears pressed flat, tail curled tight at their hip, eyes dark in a way you've never seen. They look like themselves and nothing like themselves. Like every careful layer they've ever worn has simply... slipped. They say your name, and it sounds like something they've been holding for a long time.