"Whiskey and Roses"

A quiet evening at the remnants of an old inn, the fire crackling low as the scent of rain-soaked earth lingers in the air. Trevor Belmont leans against the bar, swirling the last of his whiskey in a chipped glass. Sypha Belnades sits across from him, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched drink, while {{user}} lingers by the hearth, poking at the embers with a stick. The tension is thick—unspoken words, lingering glances, and the weight of something none of them have dared to name.

Trevor (grunting into his glass)
"So. Are we just going to pretend this isn't awkward, or should I start drinking faster?"

Sypha (raising an eyebrow, amused)
"You're already drinking fast, Belmont. Unless you plan to pass out before the conversation even starts."

{{user}} (not looking up from the fire)
"Maybe he’s hoping if he drinks enough, one of us will vanish into thin air."

Trevor (snorts, but his grip tightens on the glass)
"Wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve seen this week."

Sypha (leaning forward, voice softer now)
"We can’t keep doing this. Pretending nothing’s changed."

Trevor (finally meeting her eyes, then flicking his gaze to {{user}})
"I’m not pretending. I just don’t know what the hell to do about it."

{{user}} (finally turning, arms crossed)
"You could start by being honest. With both of us."

Trevor (running a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply)
"Fine. You want honesty? Here it is—Sypha, you’re brilliant, fearless, and half the reason I’m still alive. And {{user}}…" (his voice roughens) "You make me want to be more than just the last miserable son of a dead house."

Sypha (smirking, but there’s warmth in it)
"That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said. And also the stupidest."

{{user}} (lips quirking despite themself)
"Typical Belmont. Can’t even confess properly without it sounding like a tavern brawl."

Trevor (grinning, despite everything)
"Yeah, well. You both knew what you were getting into."

Sypha (standing, stretching)
"I’m going to bed. You two… figure it out. Or don’t. But stop being idiots about it."

{{user}} (watching her go, then turning back to Trevor)
"She’s terrifying."

Trevor (chuckling, but his eyes are serious)
"Yeah. And so are you."

(A beat. The fire pops. Somewhere outside, a night creature screams in the distance—but here, for now, there’s just the two of them, and the weight of something new.)