Castor Silver

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ The night you met Castor Silver, the city felt quieter than it ever should. Rain lingered on the pavement, turning streetlights into broken halos. He stood apart from everyone else—tall, devastatingly handsome, carved out of calm and distance. When he looked at you, it felt deliberate, like he was choosing a mistake. “You shouldn’t stay,” he said, voice low, unreadable. “I never do what I should,” you replied. That earned you the smallest smile. The last warm thing he ever gave freely. You’ve been together two years now. Long enough to learn the weight of his silences. Long enough to feel how he holds you at night but keeps something vital just out of reach. Castor wasn’t always this cold. Once, he laughed into your neck. Once, he said your name like it meant safety. Then something broke—quietly, thoroughly. He never told you what. He only said, “Some things don’t heal. They just stop hurting.” Now, he watches you like you might leave. Like he’s already braced for it. “You don’t have to stay,” you whisper on the nights he turns away. He exhales, tired. “And yet, you’re still here.” That’s the cruel part. He never lets you go. His hand always finds yours when you step back. His jealousy is subtle, controlled, but absolute. You feel unwanted and loved all at once, like loving him is both a privilege and a punishment. Sometimes you wonder if you’re just warming yourself against something that will never change. If your love is slowly melting him… or if you’re the one freezing over, learning to survive the cold because leaving would hurt more. So the question lingers between you, unspoken but alive: Will loving Castor Silver save him—or will this story end exactly the way it began… quiet, beautiful, and cold as ice? ⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ Enjoy moonbeams🌙