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Chapter 2 – The House Remembers

> The flower sat in a glass of water now. It hadn’t wilted. Nox stared at it from across the room, curled into the old velvet armchair, knees tucked to her chest. Candlelight flickered on the parchment that lay in her lap. The ink had started to bleed at the corners, but the words still held. “You forgot something.” She hadn’t forgotten. She just wished she had. The wind moaned against the windowpanes like it was looking for a way in. Shadows swayed across the walls, caught in the dance of the flame. The air in the house had grown colder. Heavier. Like the walls had started breathing again. The house always remembered. Her fingers itched to draw, but tonight, the charcoal felt heavy. Like it knew what she would see before she even began. Instead, she lit a second candle and climbed the narrow attic ladder. The wood groaned like it was protesting her weight. Or warning her. Her sketchbook lay open on the floor. Calen’s eyes stared up at her—more lifelike than she remembered drawing t...
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Chapter 1 – Lavender and Ashes

> The knock didn’t echo. It sank—like it didn’t belong in this world. Nox stared at the door from the top of the attic stairs, sketchbook clutched to her chest. Her charcoal-stained fingertips twitched. The drawing she’d just finished still lingered in her mind: Calen’s eyes, half-lost in fog, lips parted like he was about to warn her of something… again. Another knock. One. Two. Three. Her boots barely made a sound as she moved down the creaking steps, each one colder than the last. The house was too quiet. Even the snow outside seemed to be holding its breath. She reached the door. Hesitated. Then opened it. Wind and snow swept inside, curling like fingers around her waist. No one was there. Only the silence. And a single object resting on the doorstep— A lavender sprig, frozen but intact. Nox knelt slowly, brushing frost off it. Her breath caught. The flower was tied with black string. Around the stem, a piece of parchment: “You forgot something.” The snow around her shifted. A s...
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Prologue – The Face in the Snow

Post Content: > The snow never melted in Elowen. No matter how many fires were lit, no matter how long the sun lingered—winter stayed. Soft and endless. Swallowing the town in white silence. Every morning, the people woke with smiles stitched to frostbitten faces, as if nothing had ever changed. As if it had always been this way. But Nox remembered summer. She remembered lavender blooming behind the abandoned theatre. She remembered warmth, light, and laughter that didn’t sound hollow. She remembered him. A boy with violet eyes and frostbitten lips. A scar that curved like a half-moon over his cheek. A voice like ice cracking beneath still water. She dreamed of him every night—then woke to sketch his face before it faded. Page after page. Charcoal smudged with half-sleep. A single name written beneath each drawing: Calen. He always whispered the same thing: “You have to remember me… before you forget yourself.” That night, the attic creaked with cold. Nox finished her latest drawing...
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Velvet Winter

> Somewhere between a dream and a curse, this place was born. Welcome to Velvet Winter, a space carved from frost, longing, and the quiet ache of love that never quite lets go. I’m J. Nyx, a writer of haunted hearts and dark romance, where every story tastes like snowfall and sorrow. Here, I’ll share tales of lovers bound by secrets, cursed memories, and bittersweet obsessions. Each post may be a chapter, a diary entry, or a sketch of a soul who never truly left. My first story—Velvet Winter—begins soon. Stay a while. The snow remembers everything.
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