#throws a modern princess hara at youuuuu than

[petitsdieu]

* ☔ : 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝑭𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑺𝒀, 𝑵𝑶𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀, 𝑬𝑻𝑪. — card of winter. sender finds the receiver dying of frostbite and gathers them in their arms to warm them. (russian mafia/whatever viggo. *esp if 'princess' hara is also from a wealthy/powerful family here, too. pre-bodyguard shit.)

There's more kindness in a nervous system than Russia's wintering expanse. In Saint Petersburg's regnant head as a husband. In whatever pawn pieces that follow in his line. She can hardly see fault in the blinded devouts. She had viewed him through her rose glint when she was in the Spring of her Womanhood. Spring dies here.

The latter half of her marriage had backslid her into a parasympathetic, sleeper state. She had been mid-flight when she broke through the ice. Felt the pin-prick of needle death falling upon every inch of her body. It curves off her from the first warmth she's felt since she's left France.

Viggo is hot balm in the bed of snow. Her cheek melts against some place where he's soft. If she could hug back she would. She can't even bend on elbow.

❛ Don't take me to a hospital, Viggo⸺ ❜

Things get lost in the burr upper chap lip, shivering out, in the fill-in-the-blanks tremble.

❛ I don't want to go back to him. ❜

𝒇𝒕. @nightmarefuele